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Historic Buildings of America 


TURRETS, TOWERS, AND TEMPLES. Great Buildings of the 

World Described by Great Writers. 
GREAT PICTURES. Described by Great Writers. 
WONDERS OF NATURE. Described by Great Writers. 


FAMOUS PAINTINGS. Described by Great Writers. 
HISTORIC BUILDINGS. Described by Great Writers. 
FAMOUS WOMEN. Described by Great Writers. 
GREAT PORTRAITS. Described by Great Writers. 


HOLLAND. Described by Great Writers. 
PARIS. Described by Great Writers. 
LONDON. Described by Great Writers. 
RUSSIA. Described by Great Writers. 
JAPAN. Described by Great Writers. 
VENICE. Described by Great Writers. 
ROME. Described by Great Writer*. 


Historic Buildings of 

As Seen and Described 
by Famous Writers 



With Numerous Illustrations 



Copyright, zgof> 

Published October, 1906. 


IN response to requests for a book on American buildings 
on the plan of my Turrets, Towers, and Temples, Roman- 
tic Castles and Palaces, Historic Buildings, etc., I have en- 
deavoured to gather here a number of houses, churches, 
forts and civic buildings that are doubly famous for their 
architectural interest and their association with historical 
2 events and distinguished personages. I have also included 
two monuments, the Washington and the Statue of 
2| Liberty. 

Of houses associated with Washington, I have selected 
Mount Vernon, Fraunces Tavern, the Hasbrook House at 
p Newburg and the Morris-Jumel house, and to these the 
9 White House might be added, since he interested himself 
z in the plans for it and even made a personal visit of inspec- 
tion in 1792. 

^ I have included a few simple houses that are types of the 
^ homes of the past and have become pilgrimage places to 
3 those who delight in reconstructing the social life of other 
uj days. Among these, the Whipple House is one of the 
S best specimens of New England domestic architecture of 
^ the Seventeenth Century extant, and, having been judiciously 
restored, is now a museum of antiquities. Other New 
England types are represented by the Old Manse at Con- 
cord and the Clarke-Hancock house at Lexington. 



The ruins of the Jamestown Tower carry us back to the 
first English settlement of the country, and the Cradock 
House in Medford, built in 1634 (the oldest house in New 
England), shows us what a house had to be in the early 
days of the colonists, a fort as well as a dwelling, and a 
place of refuge in times of Indian attack. Another house 
that was also protected against Indian raids is the less- 
known Carlyle House in Alexandria, which was built about 
the middle of the Eighteenth Century. 

Other forts are shown in St. Augustine, Sumter and 
Castle Garden. The latter also furnishes memories of 
musical and theatrical celebrities, gala performances, brilliant 
entertainments to distinguished guests, great mass meetings, 
and shows of the Crystal Palace order. 

The Churches of Guadalupe in Mexico and St. Anne de 
Beaupre in Canada are shrines that attract thousands of de- 
vout visitors and rival in picturesqueness some of the 
pilgrimage-places in the Old World. 

Two peculiarly individual buildings are also included : 
the curious bee-hive Tabernacle of Salt Lake City and the 
Palace of Chapultepec, built in 1785. As this was 
originally Montezuma's country-seat, it carries us back as 
far as any other scene in the book. The Cathedral of 
Mexico is also built on Aztec ruins. It is interesting to 
compare this edifice with the Cathedral of Havana, in both 
of which the Spanish influence is easily appreciated. 

Two of the most admired productions of American 
architecture will be recognized in the City Hall of New 
York and St. Michael's, Charleston, which would almost 


pass for a Wren church were it transplanted to the Strand. 
Fortunately it survived the Charleston earthquake, The 
Mission Dolores has been damaged by the San Francisco 
earthquake as this book goes to press. 

To our list of fine architecture should be added Christ 
Church in Alexandria, Independence Hall, and the old Bos- 
ton State House. 

It is sometimes said there are no prevailing styles of 
American architecture ; but even with the few examples 
gathered here, we are able to note a general taste. The 
style favoured by the Dutch William and Mary of England 
(who shared her husband's tastes), is revealed in many 
buildings from Boston to Charleston ; and the Classic style 
of the Eighteenth Century, with its colonnades, porticos, 
domes and cupolas, is found everywhere and is constantly 
imitated, to-day. 


NEW YORK, April 33, tgoft. 






























THE OLD MANSE, CONCORD . . . . . .123 




CASTLE GARDEN, NEW YORK . . . . . =144 

MONTICELLO . . . . . . . .151 



THE CATHEDRAL, MEXICO . . . .... 173 

















J. M. LEMOINE, F. R. S. C. 










THE CITY HALL, NEW YORK .' . . . .286 








.FORTSUMTER o.o 313 



ST. PAUL'S CHAPEL, NEW YORK . . , - 3 2 5 

FANEUIL HALL, BOSTON . . . . . .332 




The Capitol, Washington . . . . ' . Frontispiece 
The Capitol (Rotunda) .... Facing page 8 

Arlington, Virginia " "14 

Carpenters' Hall, Philadelphia . . . " 1 8 

The Cradock House, Medford 28 

Fraunces Tavern, New York " 34 

William and Mary College, Williamsburg . " " 44 

The Mission Dolores, California " " 54 

King's Chapel, Boston . . . . ' "58 

Cathedral, Havana " " 68 

St. Michael's Church, Charleston . . . " "78 

The Carlyle House, Alexandria " ' 84 

Independence Hall, Philadelphia . . . " "92 

The Castle of Chapultepec, Mexico . . " " 106 

Parliament Buildings, Ottawa . . . " "no 

Mount Vernon, Virginia . . . . " " 116 

The Old Manse, Concord . . . . " " 1 24 

The Jamestown Tower, Virginia . . . " "132 

Nassau Hall, Princeton . . . . " "142 

Castle Garden, New York . . . . " " 144 

Monticello, Virginia " "152 

The William Penn House, Philadelphia . . " "164 

The Cathedral, Mexico . . . . " 174 

The Whipple House, Ipswich . . . "178 

Fort Marion, St. Augustine . . . . " " 1 86 

Church of St. Anne de Beaupre, Quebec . " " igz 


The Wadsworth-Longfellow House, Portland . " " zoo 
Washington's Headquarters, Newburgh " " 206 

The Tabernacle, Salt Lake City . . . " "216 

The National Washington Monument, Wash- 
ington ......"" 220 

The Clarke-Hancock House, Lexington . ' " 226 

Castle St. Louis, Quebec ...."" 236 
Sunnyside, Tarrytown ...."" 250 

The Old Witch House, Salem . . . " "256 
Shrine of Guadalupe, Mexico . . " " 264 

Christ Church, Alexandria ...."" 268 

Old Houses in St. Charles's Avenue, New 

Orleans ......"" 272 

The Chateau de Ramezay . . . . " "278 
The City Hall, New York ....'< 286 

The White House, Washington " " 294 

The White House of the Confederacy, Richmond " " 300 

The Old State House, Boston 306 

The Morris-Jumel House, New York . . " "310 

Fort Sumter, South Carolina . . . " "314 

Old Stone Tower, Newport . . . " "320 

St. Paul's Chapel, New York . . . 326 

Faneuil Hall, Boston . . . . . *< "33' 

Liberty Enlightening the World, New York . " 338 



ON the 1 8th of September, 1793, the southeast corner- 
stone of the Capitol was laid by Washington, and a 
minute account of the ceremonial appears in the Maryland 
Gazette^ published at Annapolis, September 26, 1793. It 
is mostly devoted to the Masonic ceremonial so usual at 
that day, in which " Lodge 22 of Virginia, that congrega- 
tion so graceful to the craft," figures largely with " Grand 
Master P. J. Geo. Washington, Worshipful Master " of said 
Lodge. We are also told that there appeared " on the 
southern banks of the grand river Potomac, one of the 
finest companies of artillery that hath been lately seen, 
parading to receive the President of the U. S." The Com- 
missioners delivered to the President, who deposited in the 
stone, a silver plate with the following inscription : 

"This southeast corner-stone of the Capitol of the United 
States of America in the City of Washington was laid on 
the i8th day of September, 1793, in the thirteenth year of 
American Independence, in the first year of the second 
term of the Presidency of George Washington, whose vir- 
tues in the civil administration of his country have been so 
conspicuous and beneficial, as his military valour and pru- 
dence have been useful in establishing her liberties, and in 
the year of Masonry, 5793, by the President of the United 


States, in concert with the Grand Lodge of Maryland, sev- 
eral lodges under its jurisdiction, and Lodge, No. 22, from 
Alexandria, Virginia. 

"Thomas Johnson, David Stewart, and Daniel Carroll, 
Commissioners ; Joseph Clark, R. W. G. M. P. T., James 
Hoban and Stephen Hallate, Architects ; Colin William- 
son, M. Mason." 

A Mr. Clotworthy Stevenson made an address, and the 
account concludes as follows : 

" The whole company retired to an extensive booth 
where an ox of 500 Ibs. weight was barbecued, of which 
the company generally partook, with every abundance of 
other recreation. The festival concluded with fifteen suc- 
cessive volleys from the artillery, whose military discipline 
and manoeuvres merit every commendation. 

" Before dark the whole company departed with joyful 
hopes of the production of their labour." 

The first object which attracts the traveller's attention 
as he enters Washington by rail is the Capitol. 

It is not unusual on the Continent to see a noble cathe- 
dral surrounded by miserable tumble-down structures, many 
of which are so ancient as to indicate that the shrine never 
had an appropriate setting ; and this circumstance makes 
the surroundings of the Capitol a matter of less remark to 
a foreigner than to an American whose first impressions are 
that the edifice never will have any buildings around in 
keeping with its own grandeur. 

As you approach the city from the Potomac, the public 
buildings all appear to great advantage, being on high ground 


and rising far above the private buildings which do not 
shock by contrast. It is to be regretted that circumstances 
have led to the erection of a large proportion of the private 
buildings at the west and the abandonment, tci a great ex- 
tent, of Capitol Hill, which, at the first occupation, was re- 
garded as the most desirable. 

Mr. Trollope and others have descanted upon the mis- 
take made in placing the principal front of the Capitol to- 
wards the east. But when the building was commenced there 
was reason for supposing that at least an equal part of the 
city buildings would be on that side. Besides, such porticos 
seem to require a level plane or plaza in front, rather than 
a descent like that on the west. The advantage of this is 
very apparent, since the porticos are naturally selected for 
all the great ceremonies, inaugurations and public gather- 
ings. There is abundance of standing room here for any 
crowd, however great. 

The dome is most appropriately surmounted by Craw- 
ford's bronze statue of Liberty (itself 16^ feet in height) 
is 287 feet 5 inches above the basement of the Capitol, or 
about 142 feet higher than the old dome. St. Peter's at 
Rome to the top of the lantern is 145 feet higher. St. 
Paul's in London, 73 feet higher. 

The Capitol Hill is about 90 feet above ordinary low 

The Capitol is 751 feet 4 inches long, which is 31 feet 
longer than St. Peter's and 175 feet longer than St. Paul's. 

As compared with European edifices, there are few, if 
any, that have as imposing a front as the three eastern 


porticos present. Of course no comparison can be made 
with Gothic structures like the Parliament Houses in Lon- 
don. St. Peter's Church, at first glance, almost always dis- 
appoints the visitor in its exterior ; and it is only from a dis- 
tance, where you see nothing of the front, that the majestic 
proportions of the dome are realized. There is an abrupt- 
ness in the manner in which that front rises, with no relief 
except in a small piazza, which seems as out of place as 
the one on the western front of the Capitol. At the 
Capitol, the spectator, at a distance of one or two hundred 
feet, has the whole structure in all its outlines before him. 

Most persons who visit the Capitol for the first time, 
have their attention so much absorbed in the exten- 
sion, that they overlook the objects of interest in the cen- 
tral edifice. Yet there is no room in the new buildings 
comparable in beauty to the old Representatives' HalL 
The new halls for the Senate and House may present 
acoustic advantages, and certainly accommodate the public 
much better, but no room without columns can present as 
imposing an effect as one with them. And such columns ! 
There is nothing like them elsewhere. That brecchia^ or 
pudding-stone, is too costly to work, ever to be brought 
into general use. They cost over eight thousand dollars 
apiece, and there are twenty-four of them. And there is 
no more beautiful piece of sculpture in the building than 
the clock in this hall, representing History on a winged car, 
the wheel of which forms the dial. 

The old Hall, too, is memorable as the scene where all 
the great men for the first half century of the Republic 


figured. Here Clay presided, Webster made his debut, 
Adams died ! And how full of associations with historical 
names is every part of the cosy old Senate Chamber, 
now appropriately occupied by the Supreme Court ! Not 
one person in a hundred notices the tobacco-leaf capitals of 
the circular colonnade between this room and the Rotunda ; 
and still fewer ever think of going down the neighbouring 
staircase to look at the corn-stalk columns which ornament 
the entrance to the room formerly occupied by the Supreme 

Every visitor to the new wings of the Capitol must have 
remarked upon the fact that, with the exception of the 
staircases, the most costly decorations have been lavished 
upon rooms which are only accessible to the public at lim- 
ited times, or by sufferance of those having them in charge. 
One naturally expects to see the results of artistic skill to 
the greatest extent in the Halls of the Senate and House, 
as is the case in the centre building. It seems well enough 
that marble and frescoes should be used in such rooms as 
those appropriated to the President and Vice- President and 
the Senators' retiring-room, the last of which, all of mar- 
ble, is the gem of the building. But why so many 
thousands should have been expended on committee rooms, 
or in painting corridors which are too dark to be seen to 
advantage, is not apparent. The only reason ever assigned 
is, that it was desirable to experiment here on different 
styles of ornament. 

There is no marble whatever in the Senate Chambei, 
and none, except the Speaker's and Clerk's desks in the 


House. This deficiency is the more noticed because of the 
extent to which this beautiful material is used on the stair- 
cases leading to the galleries, which are universally ad- 
mired. But here it is remarkable that three of the stair- 
cases are of the same material. The Tennessee marble is 
certainly beautiful, but so is the white polished marble of 
the stairs leading to the west gallery of the Senate. 

Another criticism upon the two Halls is that they are so 
much alike. The main difference is that one is smaller 
than the other. Conceding that, in certain respects, they 
had to be alike, as in the oblong shape and the flat ceiling 
for acoustic purposes, and the construction of galleries so 
as to afford an uninterrupted view, there was surely op- 
portunity for a man of taste to have devised a finish which 
would have been more distinctive. One of them might 
have had some windows opening upon the outer world. 
Both are now placed in the interior, without a window on 
any side. It is true that they are well lighted both by 
night and day through the glass ceilings, and so far as we 
have observed the ventilation is good ; yet it seems a pity 
that the rooms had not been constructed with windows, 
even if they were not to be opened. 

Nothing in the old Halls was more refreshing to mem- 
bers, or more agreeable to spectators in the gallery, than 
the glimpse of green trees afforded through the windows, 
and such windows would have been the more attractive 
here, opening as they would have done upon the small 
porticos north and south. This was Mr. Walter's plan, 
as appears by his report made in 1852. 


It is pleasant to perceive that the architect has taken a 
hint from the corn-stalk columns, and shown more boldness 
and originality than is usual with his profession in departing 
from the regularly prescribed orders in regard to capitals 
and other ornamental work. A fine row of monolithic 
columns is to be seen on the floor of the south extension, 
under the Representatives' Hall, the capitals of which are 
composed of the tobacco and thistle. The twenty-four 
columns and forty pilasters in the grand vestibules are en- 
tirely original, the capitals being composed of corn-leaves, 
tobacco and magnolias each of the faces of the columns, 
as well as the pilasters, has a magnolia, all different in 
form, and all made from casts of the natural flower. The 
ornamentations of the ceiling and cornices in the Senate 
and House are all drawn from the natural products of the 
country. In the Representatives' Hall are many rosettes 
composed of the cotton plant in its various, stages of growth. 
No one can fail to observe and admire the exquisite statues 
of Franklin and Hancock, which are appropriately placed 
in niches opposite the staircases to the Senate gallery. The 
landings of the staircases furnished most appropriate places 
for large paintings; like that of Leutze, which improves 
upon acquaintance and causes every one to linger as he 
goes to or returns from the gallery of the House. 



THE principal features of the Capitol are, of course, 
the two Houses of Assembly. But there is, be- 
sides, in the centre of the building, a fine rotunda, ninety- 
six feet in diameter, and ninety-six high, whose circular 
wall is divided into compartments, ornamented by historical 
pictures. Four of these have for their subjects prominent 
events in the revolutionary struggle. They were painted 
by Colonel Trumbull, himself a member of Washington's 
staff at the time of their occurrence j from which circum- 
stance they derive a peculiar interest of their own. In this 
same hall Mr. Greenough's large statue of Washington 
has been lately placed. It has great merits of course, but 
it struck me as being rather strained and violent for its 
subject. I could wish, however, to have seen it in a better 
light than it can ever be viewed in, where it stands. 

There is a very pleasant and commodious library in the 
Capitol; and from a balcony in front, the bird's-eye view 
may be had, together with a beautiful prospect of the ad- 
jacent country. In one of the ornamented portions of the 
building, there is a figure of Justice ; whereunto the Guide 
Book says, " the artist at first contemplated giving more of 
nudity, but he was warned that the public sentiment in this 
country would not admit of it, and in his caution he has 


gone, perhaps, into the opposite extreme." Poor Justice ! 
she has been made to wear much stranger garments in 
America than those she pines in, in the Capitol. Let us 
hope that she has changed her dressmaker since they were 
fashioned, and that the public sentiment of the country did 
not cut out the clothes she hides her lovely figure in, just 

The House of Representatives is a beautiful and spacious 
hall, of semicircular shape, supported by handsome pillars. 
One part of the gallery is appropriated to the ladies, and 
there they sit in front rows, and come in, and go out, as at 
a play or concert. The chair is canopied, and raised con- 
siderably above the floor of the House ; and every member 
has an easy-chair and a writing-desk to himself: which is 
denounced by some people out of doors as a most unfortu- 
nate and injudicious arrangement, tending to long sittings 
and prosaic speeches. It is an elegant chamber to look at, 
but a singularly bad one for all purposes of hearing. The 
Senate, which is smaller, is free from this objection, and 
is exceedingly well adapted to the uses for which it is de- 
signed. The sittings, I need hardly add, take place in the 
day ; and the parliamentary forms are modelled on those of 
the old country. 

I was sometimes asked, in my progress through other 
places, whether I had not been very much impressed by 
the heads of the lawmakers at Washington ; meaning not 
their chiefs and leaders, but literally their individual and 
personal heads, whereon their hair grew, and whereby the 
phrenological character of each legislator was expressed : 


and I almost as often struck my questioner dumb with in- 
dignant consternation by answering " No, that I didn't re- 
member being at all overcome." As I must, at whatever 
hazard, repeat the avowal here, I will follow it up by re- 
lating my impressions on this subject in as few words as 

In the first place it may be from some imperfect de- 
velopment of my organ of veneration I do not remember 
having ever fainted away, or having even been moved to 
tears of joyful pride, at sight of any legislative body. I 
have borne the House of Commons like a man, and have 
yielded to no weakness, but slumber, in the House of 
Lords. I have seen elections for borough and county, and 
have never been impelled (no matter which party won) to 
damage my hat by throwing it up into the air in triumph, 
or to crack my voice by shouting forth any reference to our 
Glorious Constitution, to the noble purity of our inde- 
pendent voters, or the unimpeachable integrity of our in-- 
dependent members. Having withstood such strong attacks 
upon my fortitude, it is possible that I may be of a cold 
and insensible temperament, amounting to iciness, in such 
matters ; and therefore my impressions of the live pillars of 
the Capitol at Washington must be received with such 
grains of allowance as this free confession may seem to 

Did I see in this public body an assemblage of men, 
bound together in the sacred names of Liberty and Free- 
dom, and so asserting the chaste dignity of those twin god- 
desses, in all their discussions, as to exalt at once the Eter- 


nal Principles to which their names are given, and their 
own character, and the character of their countrymen, in 
the admiring eyes of the whole world? 

Did I recognize in this assembly, a body of men, who, 
applying themselves in a new world to correct some of the 
falsehoods and vices of the old, purified the avenues to 
Public Life, paved the dirty ways to Place and Power, de- 
bated and made laws for the Common Good, and had no 
party but their Country ? 

I saw in them the wheels that move the meanest perver- 
sion of virtuous Political Machinery that the worst tools 
ever wrought. Despicable trickery at elections; under- 
handed tamperings with public officers ; cowardly attacks 
upon opponents, with scurrilous newspapers for shields, and 
hired pens for daggers ; shameful trucklings to mercenary 
knaves, whose claim to be considered, is, that every day 
and week they sow new crops of ruin with their venal 
types, which are the dragons' teeth of yore, in everything 
but sharpness ; aidings and abettings of every bad inclina- 
tion in the popular mind, and artful suppressions of all its 
good influences : such things as these, and in a word, Dis- 
honest Faction in its most depraved and most unblushing 
form, stared out from every corner of the crowded hall. 

Did I see among them the intelligence and refinement : 
the true, honest, patriotic heart of America ? Here and 
there, were drops of its blood and life, but they scarcely 
coloured the stream of desperate adventurers which sets 
that way for profit and for pay. It is the game of these 
men, and of their profligate organs, to make the strife of 


politics so fierce and brutal, and so destructive of all self- 
respect in worthy men, that sensitive and delicate-minded 
persons shall be kept aloof, and they, and such as they, be 
left to battle out their selfish views, unchecked. And thus 
this lowest of all scrambling fights goes on, and they who 
in other countries would, from their intelligence and sta- 
tion, most aspire to make the laws, do here recoil the 
farthest from that degradation. 

That there are, among the representatives of the people 
in both Houses, and among all parties, some men of high 
character and great abilities, I need not say. The fore- 
most among those politicians who are known in Europe, 
have been already described, and I see no reason to depart 
from the rule I have laid down for my guidance, of abstain- 
ing from all mention of individuals. It will be sufficient 
to add, that to the most favourable accounts that have been 
written of them, I more than fully and most heartily sub- 
scribe ; and that personal intercourse and free communica- 
tion have bred within me, not the result predicted ;n the 
very doubtful proverb, but increased admiration and respect. 
They are striking men to look at, hard to deceive, prompt 
to act, lions in energy, Crichtons in varied accomplishments, 
Indians in fire of eye and gesture, Americans in strong and 
generous impulse; and they as well represent the honour 
and wisdom of their country at home, as the distinguished 
gentleman who is now its Minister at the British Court 
sustains its highest character abroad. 

I visited both Houses nearly every day, during my stay 
in Washington. On my initiatory visit to the House of 


Representatives, they divided against a decision of the 
chair; but the chair won. The second time I went, the 
member who was speaking, being interrupted by a laugh, 
mimicked it, as one child would in quarrelling with another, 
and added, " that he would make honourable gentlemen 
opposite, sing out a little more on the other side of their 
mouths presently." But interruptions are fare ; the Speaker 
being usually heard in silence. There are more quarrels 
than with us, and more threaten ings than gentlemen are 
accustomed to exchange in any civilized society of which 
we have record : but farm-yard imitations have not as yet 
been imported from the Parliament of the United Kingdom. 
The feature in oratory which appears to be the most prac- 
ticed, and most relished, is the constant repetition of the 
same idea or shadow of an idea in fresh words ; and the 
inquiry out of doors is not, "What did he say?" but, 
" How long did he speak ? " These, however, are but 
enlargements of a principle which prevails elsewhere. 



THE next day we decided to improve the shining hours 
truly and literally shining in this radiant spring weather 
of blue heavens and balmy sunshine by paying a brief visit 
to the Capitol in the morning, and taking a drive to Arlington 
in the afternoon. It takes a good many brief visits to see 
the Washington Capitol thoroughly ; but one appreciates 
and enjoys it so far better than by " doing " it in one long 
visitation, as we see so many tourists " doing " it, with red 
guide-books in their hands, or bulging from their pockets. 
(I must conscientiously confess, in parenthesis, that we our- 
selves also carry a Guide to Washington, and, during the in- 
spection of the Capitol, are apt to refer to it pretty often.) 
In the endeavour to take it all in on one day, the eye gets sur- 
feited with pictures and statues, mouldings and frescoes ; 
the soul sickens at the further contemplation of busts and 
bas-reliefs, bronze-panellings and marble pillars ; Pocahontas 
and Washington dance together dizzily in the confused 
brain; and Presidents and Puritan Fathers, William Penn 
and Miles Standish, allegorical figures of Freedom and 
Victory, the Declaration of Independence, the Landing of 
Columbus and the Sword of Bunker's Hill all mingle in a 
kaleidoscopic jumble in the wearied mind. 

In the afternoon, we take a carriage to Arlington, a 
beautiful drive of only about four miles. All the way the 


great white dome of the Capitol dominates the landscape. 
Across the Potomac, from Arlington Heights, beyond river, 
wood, winding road and city, we see it soaring into the in- 
tense blue of the sky like an Alpine peak. 

The Arlington Mansion was built by George Washing- 
ton Parke Custis (grandson of Martha and adapted son of 
George Washington). His daughter married Robert E. 
Lee, and here the Lees kept hospitable house and happy 
home until the disastrous days of war. During the long 
struggle the estate was confiscated, and, having been em- 
ployed as headquarters for the Federal troops, was eventually 
turned into a " national cemetery," where over fifteen 
thousand soldiers lie buried. 

The beautiful park-like grounds are now a field of the dead. 
Up the hillside by thousands and tens of thousands, stretch 
the long regular serried lines of tombstones. Here, line by 
line, in rank and file, at peace beyond the battle, lies the 
silent army now. It is so hard to realize, looking on these 
squadrons of the dead, still seeming drawn up in battle ar- 
ray, that every one of those cold white stones strikes down 
to the dust that was once a human heart, that throbbed with 
the passionate pain of parting at leaving home and love, that 
thrilled at the trumpet's call, that beat high with hope and 
valour and gave its life-blood for the victorious cause that it 
held dear/ 

One massive granite tomb covers a vault where lie the 
remains of more than two thousand of the unknown dead. 
But the deserted mansion itself is as sad as any of the tombs 
that surround it. The grand old house is empty and un- 


garnished ; its bare floors echo mournfully to our footfalls ; 
the hall door (the " classic portal, resting on eight mass- 
ive Doric columns," as the guide-book describes it), stands 
drearily open ; all the world is welcome to enter there. It 
is not in the least like a haunted house ; there are no corners 
whence bats might flit at night ; no thick curtain of dust 
coats the walls, nor dark banners of spider's web veil the 
windows. The lofty rooms are spotless, speckless, carefully 
kept and unutterably forlorn. We wander from room to 
room through a desolate silence only broken by our own 
steps ; the conservatories are barren of flowers ; the only 
living thing we come upon is a dog sleeping in a patch of 
sunlight. More mournful a memorial than granite slab or 
marble cross, more eloquent than inscription carved in stone, 
the forsaken mansion stands, a silent monument to the Lost 

As we descend the great staircase, a mighty clatter and 
babble wake the hollow echoes, and we meet a gay and 
rather noisy party, led by our brisk young New Yorker of 
yesterday's Mount Vernon excursion, swarming, chattering 
and laughing across the hall. Their happy, ringing voices 
strike a jarring note here. Well, we have done with 
Arlington Heights, and these joyous ones may ransack the 
lonely corners of the deserted chambers at their own sweet 
will. As we turn for a last look, we hear the youngest, 
liveliest and prettiest of the party exclaim, as she trips 
lightly into the bare drawing-room : 

" Oh, my ! here's a room for a hop ! " 

We drive back to Washington and return to our hotel in 


good time for dinner, to which we sit down, a company of 
some three hundred, round tables loaded with every delicacy 
of the season, and dine to music, a band playing in the 
gallery overlooking the dining-room, exhilarating the spirits 
and stimulating the appetites of the assembled Sybarites by 
stirring strains. 

Assassins may shoot and presidents may fall. After a 
splashing and a circling in the waves, the current flows on. 
much the same. 

" Le roi est mart I Vive le roi ! " 



ON Monday morning I visited Carpenters' Hall, the 
building in which the first Continental Congress 
held its brief session. Having had no intimation concern- 
ing its appearance, condition and present use, and informed 
that it was situated in " Carpenters' Court," imagination 
had invested its exterior with dignity, its interior with 
solemn grandeur, and its location a spacious area where 
nothing "common or unclean" was permitted to dwell. 
How often the hoof of Pegasus touches the leafless tree- 
tops of sober prose when his rider supposes him to be at 
his highest altitude ! How often the rainbow of imagina- 
tion fades and leaves to the eye nothing but the forbidding 
aspect of a cloud of plain reality ! So at this time. The 
spacious court was but a short and narrow alley ; and the 
Hall, consecrated by the holiest associations which cluster 
around the birthplace of our Republic, was a small two- 
story building, of sombre aspect, with a short steeple and 
all of a dingy hue. 

This building is constructed of small imported bricks, 
each alternate one glazed, and darker than the other, giv- 
ing it a checkered appearance. Many of the old houses 
in Philadelphia were built of like materials. It was origin- 
ally erected for the hall of meeting for the society of house- 



carpenters of Philadelphia. It stands at the end of an alley 
leading south from Chestnut Street, between Third and 
Fourth Streets. 

The hall in which Congress met is upon the lower floor, 
and comprehends the whole area of the building. It is 
about forty-five feet square, with a recess in the rear twenty- 
five feet wide and about twelve feet deep, at the entrance 
of which are two pillars, eighteen feet high. The second 
story contains smaller apartments which were used by 
Congress and occupied by the society as committee rooms. 
In one of these, emptied of all merchandise except a wash 
tub and a rush-bottomed chair, let us sit down and consider 
the events connected with that first great Continental 

For many years a strong sympathy had existed between 
the several colonies, and injuries done to one, either by the 
aggressions of the French and Indians, or the unkind hand 
of their common mother, touched the feelings of all the 
others and drew out responsive words and acts which de- 
noted an already strong bond of unity. Widely separated 
as some of them were from each other by geographical 
distance and diversity of interest and pursuits, there were, 
nevertheless^ political, social and commercial considerations 
which made the Anglo-Americans really one people, having 
common interests and common hopes. Called upon as free 
subjects of Great Britain to relinquish, theoretically and 
practically, some of the dearest prerogatives guaranteed to 
them by the Magna Charta and hoary custom prerogatives 
'n which were enveloped the most precious kernels of civil 


liberty they arose as one family to resist the insidious 
progress of oncoming despotism, and yearned for union to 
give themselves strength commensurate to the task. Lead- 
ing minds in every colony perceived the necessity for a 
general council, and in the spring of 1774, the great heart 
of Anglo-America seemed to be as with one pulsation with 
this sublime idea. That idea found voice and expression 
almost simultaneously throughout the land. Rhode Island 
has the distinguished honour of first speaking out publicly 
on the subject. A general Congress was proposed at a 
town meeting in Providence on the I7th of May, 1774. 
A committee of a town meeting held in Philadelphia on the 
2 ist, four days afterwards, also recommended such a 
measure ; and on the 23d, a town meeting in New York 
city uttered the same sentiment. The House of Burgesses 
of Virginia, dissolved by Lord Dunmore, assembled at the 
Raleigh Tavern in Williamsburg, on the 27th, and on that 
day warmly recommended the assembling of a national 
council ; and Baltimore, in a county meeting, also took 
action in favour of it on the 3151. On the 6th of June, a 
town meeting at Norwich, Connecticut, proposed a general 
Congress; and on the nth, a county meeting at Newark, 
New Jersey, did the same ; on the I7th, the Massachusetts 
Assembly, and, at the same time, a town meeting in Faneuil 
Hall, in Boston, strenuously recommended the measure ; 
and a county meeting at New Castle, Delaware, approved 
of it on the igth. On the 6th of July, the committee 
of correspondence at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, ex- 
pressed its approbation of the measure. A general province 


meeting, held at Charleston, South Carolina, on the 6th, 
7th and 8th of that month, urged the necessity of such a 
Congress ; and a district meeting at Wilmington, North 
Carolina, held on the 2 1st, heartily responded affirmatively. 
Thus we perceive that, within the space of sixty-four days, 
twelve of the thirteen colonies spoke out decidedly in favour 
of a Continental Congress, Georgia alone remaining silent. 
The Massachusetts Assembly designated the 1st of Septem- 
ber, 1774, as the time and Philadelphia as the place for the 
meeting of the Congress. Other colonies acquiesced and 
at Philadelphia the delegates convened. 

" Now meet the fathers of this western clime, 

Nor names more noble graced .the roll of Fame, 

When Spartan firmness braved the wrecks of time, 

Or Rome's bold virtues fann'd the heroic flame. 

" Not deeper thought th' immortal sage inspired 
'On Solon's lips, when Grecian senates hung; 
Nor manlier eloquence the bosom fired, 

When genius thunder'd from the Athenian tongue." 


On Monday, the 5th of September, fifty-four delegates, 
from twelve colonies, assembled in Carpenters' Hall. It 
was a congregation of men, viewed in every important as- 
pect, such as the world had never seen. 

Congress was organized by the choice of Peyton Ran- 
dolph, of Virginia, as president, and Charles Thomson, of 
Pennsylvania, as secretary. The credentials of the various 
delegates were then presented, and now came a pause ; who 

The Author of M'Fingal. These lines are from his Elegy on the 
Times, published while this first Congress was in session. 


should take the lead ? What measure should be first pro- 
posed ? They had come together from distant Provinces, 
some instructed by the power that appointed them, others 
left free to act as circumstances should require. There was 
a profound silence and deep anxiety was depicted upon every 
countenance. No one seemed willing to break that silence, 
until a grave-looking member, in a plain dark suit of " min- 
ister's grey " and unpowdered wig, arose. u Then," said 
Bishop White, who was present and related the circum- 
stance, " I felt a regret that a seeming country parson should 
so far have mistaken his talents and the theatre for their 
display." But his voice was so musical, his words so 
eloquent, and his sentiments so profoundly logical, that the 
whole House was electrified, and the question went from 
lip to lip, " Who is it ? Who is it ? " A few, who knew 
the stranger, answered, " It is Patrick Henry, of Vir- 
ginia ! " There was no more hesitation ; he who startled 
the people of Colonial America nine years before, by his 
bold resolutions against the Stamp Act, and a few months 
afterwards by the cry of " Give me liberty or give me 
death ! " now gave the impulse to the representatives of that 
people in grand council assembled and set in motion that 
machinery of civil power which worked so nobly while 
Washington and his compatriots were waging war with the 
enemy in the field. 

Two days afterwards another impressive scene occurred. 
It was the first prayer in Congress, offered by the Reverend 
Mr. Duche. The first day had been occupied in the re- 
ception of credentials and the arrangement of business j the 


second in the adoption of rules for the regulation of the 
session; and now, when about to enter upon the general 
business for which they were convened, the delegates 
publicly sought Divine aid. It was a spectacle of great in- 
terest, for men of every creed were there. In this service 
their creeds were forgotten and the hearts of all united in 
the prayer which flowed from the pastor's lips ; a prayer 
which came from a then patriot's heart, though timidity 
afterwards lost him the esteem of his friends and country- 

The Congress resolved to sit with closed doors, for 
enemies were around them with open eyes and busy 
tongues, and nothing was to be made public without special 
orders. Having no means at hand to ascertain the relative 
importance of the Colonies, it was agreed " that each 
Colony or Province should have one vote in determining 
questions." One of their first acts was to express an 
opinion that the whole continent ought to support Massa- 
chusetts in resistance to the unconstitutional change in her 
government ; and they afterwards resolved that any person 
accepting office under the new system ought to be held in 
detestation as a public enemy. Merchants were advised to 
enter with non-importation agreements ; and a letter was 
addressed to General Gage, remonstrating against the forti- 
fications on Boston Neck, and his arbitrary exercise o. 
power. On the I4th of October, a Declaration of Colonial 
Rights, prepared by a committee of two from each Province, 
was adopted, m which were set forth the grievances com- 
plained of and the inalienable rights of British subjects in 


every part of the realm. As a means of enforcing the 
claim of natural and delegated rights, fourteen articles were 
agreed to as the basis of an American Association, pledg- 
ing the associators to an entire commercial non-intercourse 
with Great Britain, Ireland and the West Indies, and the 
non-consumption of tea and British goods. In one clause 
the slave trade was specially denounced, and entire absence 
from it and from any trade with those concerned in it, 
formed a part of the association. Committees were to be 
appointed in every county, city and town, to detect and 
punish all violations of it ; and all dealings with such 
enemies of American liberty were to be immediately broken 
off. One hundred and fifty copies of the Articles of As- 
sociation were ordered to be printed. 

An eloquent address to the people of Great Britain, from 
the pen of John Jay, and a memorial to the inhabitants of 
the several British American Colonies, written by William 
Livingston, were adopted by Congress on the 2ist. A 
petition, drawn by John Adams and corrected by John 
Dickenson was approved on the 26th. Letters to the 
Colonies of St. John's Island (now Prince Edward's, Nova 
Scotia), Georgia and the Floridas, enclosing the doings of 
Congress, and inviting them to join the Association, were 
also adopted on that day (the last of the session). At the 
same time they approved of an elaborate address to the in- 
habitants of Canada. This was drawn up by Mr. Dicken- 
son. Having made provision for another Congress to meet 
on the loth of May following, the first general council 
closed its session by adopting a second humble petition to 


the King and a vote of thanks to the advocates of Colonial 
rights in both houses of Parliament. 

Congress was in actual session only thirty-one days out 
of the eight weeks of the term, the remainder of the time 
being occupied in preparatory business. It was a session of 
extraordinary activity and a great amount of business of vast 
importance was transacted, notwithstanding many unneces- 
sary speeches were evidently made. They were certainly 
more to the purpose than are most of the harangues in 
Congress at the present day, or, considering the diversity 
of opinion that must have existed upon the sentiments of 
the various state papers that were adopted, the session 
would have continued for several months. We have no 
means of knowing what harmony or what discord charac- 
terized those debates. The doors were closed to the pub- 
lic ear, and no reporters for the press have preserved the 
substance of the speeches. That every resolution adopted 
was far from receiving a unanimous vote, is very evident ; 
for we find, by the subsequent declarations and acts of 
delegates, that some of the measures were violently opposed. 
Many deplored the probability of an open rupture with the 
mother country and refused acquiescence in any measure 
that should tend to such a result. Indeed, the sentiments 
of a large majority of the delegates were favourable to an 
honourable reconciliation, and the Congress was determined 
not to present the least foundation for a charge of rushing 
madly into an unnatural contest without presenting the olive 
branch of peace. Such was the tenor of its petitions and 
addresses i and every charge of desire on the part of Con- 


gress for a war that might lead to independence rested solely 
upon inference. Galloway, Duane, and others, even opposed 
the American Association ; and they regarded the Adamses 
as men not only too much committed to violent measures 
by the part they had taken in Boston, but that they were 
desperate men with nothing to lose, and hence unsafe 
guides to gentlemen who had estates to forfeit. And yet 
Galloway, when he became a prescriptive Loyalist, and one 
of the most active enemies of the Republicans, was forced 
to acknowledge the stern virtue of many of the patriots of 
that assembly, and among them Samuel Adams. " He eats 
little, drinks little, sleeps little, and thinks much," he said, 
" and is most indefatigable in the pursuit of his object. It 
was this man who, by his superior application, managed at 
once the factions in Congress at Philadelphia and the fac- 
tions in New England." 

The proceedings of this first Congress went forth to 
the world with all the weight of apparent unanimity, and 
throughout the Colonies they were hailed with general satis- 
faction. The American Association adopted and signed by 
the delegates was regarded by the people with great favour 
and thousands in every province affixed their signatures to 
the pledge. These formed the fibres of the stronger bond 
of the Articles of Confederation afterwards adopted, and may 
be considered the commencement of the American Union. 



THE object of paramount interest which Medford con- 
tains is the plantation house of Governor Cradock, 
or " Mathias Charterparty," as the malcontent Morton 
styled him. This house is the monarch of all those now 
existing in North America. As we trace a family back 
generation after generation until we bring all collateral 
branches to one common source in the first Colonist, so we 
go from one old house to another until we finally come to 
a pause before this patriarch of the sea. It is the handi- 
work of the first planters in the vicinity of Boston, and it 
is one of the first, if not the very first, of the brick houses 
erected within the government of John Winthrop. 

Every man, woman and child in Medford knows the 
" Old Fort," as the older inhabitants love to call it, and 
will point you to the site with visible pride that their pleas- 
ant town contains so interesting a relic. Turning your 
back upon the village and your face to the east, a brisk 
walk of ten minutes along the banks of the Mystic, and 
you are in presence of the object of your search. 

A very brief survey establishes the fact that this was one 
of those houses of refuge scattered through the New Eng- 

1 From Samuel Adams Drake's Historical Mansions and Highways (Bos- 
ton, 1899), by permission of the publishers, Messrs. Little, Brown & Co. 


land settlements, into which the inhabitants might fly 
for safety upon any sudden alarm of danger from the 

The situation was well chosen for security. It has the 
river in front, marshes to the eastward and a considerable 
extent of level meadow behind it. As it was from this 
latter quarter that an attack was most to be apprehended, 
greater precautions were taken to secure that side. The 
house itself is placed a little above the general level. Stand- 
ing for a century and a half in the midst of an extensive 
and open field, enclosed by palisades and guarded with 
gates, a foe could not approach unseen by day, nor find a 
vantage-ground from which to assail the inmates. Here, 
then, the agents of Matthew Cradock, first Governor of 
the Massachusetts Company in England, built the house 
we are now describing. 

In the office of the Secretary of the Commonwealth, at 
Boston, hangs the charter of "The Governor and Com- 
pany of the Massachusetts Bay in New England," brought 
over by Winthrop in 1630. The great seal of England, a 
most ponderous and convincing symbol of authority, is 
appended to it. 

It is well known that the settlement at Salem, two years 
earlier, under the leadership of Endicott, was begun by a 
commercial company in England, of which Matthew Crad- 
ock was Governor. In order to secure the emigration of 
such men as Winthrop, Dudley, Sir R. Saltonstall, Johnson, 
and others, Cradock proposed in July, 1629, to transfer the 
government from the company in England to the inhabit- 


ants here. As he was the wealthiest and most influential 
person in the association, his proposal was acceded to. 

We cannot enter here, into the political aspects of thia 
coup d'etat. It must ever arrest the attention and challenge 
the admiration of the student of American history. In 
defiance of the crown, which had merely organized them 
into a mercantile corporation, like the East India Company, 
with officers resident in England, they proceeded to nullify 
the clear intent of their charter by removing the gov- 
ernment to America. The project was first mooted by 
Cradock, and secrecy enjoined upon the members of the 
Company That he was the avowed author of it must be 
our apology for introducing the incident. This circum- 
stance renders Matthew Cradock's name conspicuous in the 
annals of New England. 

Cradock never came to America, but there is little doubt 
that he entertained the purpose of doing so. He sent over, 
however, agents, or " servants," as they were styled, who 
established the plantation at Mystic Side. He also had 
houses at Ipswich and at Marblehead for fishery and traffic. 

For a shrewd man of business Cradock seems to have 
been singularly unfortunate in some of his servants. One 
of these, Philip RatclifF, being convicted " ore tenus of most 
foul and slanderous invectives " against the churches and 
government, was sentenced to be whipped, lose his ears, 
and be banished the plantation. Winthrop was complained 
of by Dudley because he stayed the execution of the sen- 
tence of banishment, but answered that it was on the score 
of humanity, as it was winter and the man must have 


perished. Ratcliff afterwards, in conjunction with Thomas 
Morton and Sir Christopher Gardiner, procured a petition 
to the Lords of the Privy Council, before whom Cradock 
was summoned. 

Wood, one of the early chroniclers, tells us that Master 
Cradock had a park impaled at Mystic, where his cattle 
were kept until it could be stocked with deer j and that he 
also was engaged in ship-building, a vessel of a " hundred 
tunne" having been built the previous year (1632). It 
may be, too, that Cradock's artisans built here for Winthrop 
the little " Blessing of the Bay," launched upon the Mystic 
tide, July 4, 1631, an event usually located at the Gov- 
ernor's farm, at Ten Hills. 

This house, a unique specimen of the architecture of the 
early settlers, must be considered a gem of its kind. It is 
not disguised by modern alterations in any essential feature, 
but bears its credentials on its face. Two hundred and 
sixty odd New England winters have searched every cranny 
of the old fortress, whistled down the big chimney-stacks, 
rattled the window-panes in impotent rage, and, departing, 
certified to us the staunch and trusty handiwork of Crad- 
ock's English craftsmen. 

Time has dealt gently with this venerable relic. Like a 
veteran of many campaigns, it shows a few honourable scars. 
The roof has swerved a little from its true outline. It 
has been denuded of a chimney and has parted reluctantly 
with a dormer-window. The loopholes, seen in the front, 
were long since closed ; the race they were to defend against 
has hardly an existence to-day. The windows have been 


enlarged, with an effect on the ensemble, as Hawthorne says 
in a similar case, of rouging the cheeks of one's grand- 
mother. Hoary with age, it is yet no ruin, but a com- 
fortable habitation. 

How many generations of men and our old house has 
seldom if ever been untenanted have lived and died within 
those walls ! When it was built Charles I. reigned in Old 
England and Cromwell had not begun his great career. 
Peter the Great was not then born, and the house was 
waxing in years when Frederick the Great appeared on the 
stage. We seem to be speaking of recent events when 
Louis XVI. suffered by the axe of the guillotine and 
Napoleon's sun rose in splendour to set in obscurity. 

The Indian, who witnessed its slowly ascending walls 
with wonder and misgiving ; the Englishman, whose axe 
wakened new echoes in the primeval forest ; the Colonist 
native to the soil, who battled and died within view to 
found a new nation, all have passed away. But here, in 
this old mansion, is the silent evidence of those great epochs 
of history. 

It is not clear at what time the house was erected, but it 
has usually been fixed at 1634, when a large grant of land 
was made to Cradock by the General Court. The bricks 
are said to have been burned near by. There was some 
attempt at ornament, the lower course of the belt being 
laid with moulded bricks so as to form a cornice. The 
loopholes were for defence. The walls were half a yard in 
thickness. Heavy iron bars secured the arched windows at 
tb? back, and the entrance door was encased in iron. The 


fire-proof closets, huge chimney-stacks, and massive hewn 
timbers told of strength and durability. A single pane of 
glass, set in iron and placed in the back wall of the western 
chimney, overlooked the approach from the town. 

The builders were Englishmen, and, of course, followed 
their English types. They named their towns and villages 
after the sounding nomenclature of Old England ; and 
what more natural than that they should wish their homes 
to resemble those they had left behind ? Such a house 
might have served an inhabitant of the Scottish border, 
with its loopholes, narrow windows and doors sheathed in 
iron. Against an Indian foray it was impregnable. 

Cradock was about the only man connected with the set- 
tlement in Massachusetts Bay whose means admitted of 
such a house. Both Winthrop and Dudley built of wood, 
and the former rebuked the deputy for what he thought an 
unreasonable expense in finishing his own house. Many 
brick buildings were erected in Boston during the first dec- 
ade of the settlement, but we have found none that can 
claim such an ancient pedigree as this of which we are 
writing. It is far from improbable that, having in view a 
future residence in New England, Cradock may have given 
directions for or prescribed the plan of this house, and that 
it may have been the counterpart of his own in St. Swithen's 
Lane, near London Stone. 

Then went I forth by London Stone 
Throughout all Canwick Street." 

The plantation, with its green meadows and its stately 


forest-trees, was a manor of which Cradock was lord and 
master. His grant extended a mile into the country from 
the river-side in all places. Though absent, he was con- 
sidered nominally present, and is constantly alluded to by 
name in the early records. Cradock was a member of the 
Long Parliament, dying in 1641. The euphonious name of 
Mystic has been supplanted by Medford, the Meadford of 
Dudley and the rest. 

It is not to be expected that a structure belonging to so 
remote a period for New England, should be without its 
legendary lore. It is related that the old fort was at one 
time beleaguered for several days by an Indian war party, 
who at length retired baffled from the strong walls and 
death-shots of the garrison. As a veracious historian, we 
are compelled to add that we know of no authentic data of 
such an occurrence. 



FRAUNCES 1 TAVERN, corner of Broad and Pearl 
Streets, was Washington's quarters, on the evacuation 
of the city by the British troops, 25th of November, 1783. 
This old mansion, around which some of the most interest- 
ing reminiscences of our Revolutionary history are con- 
nected, still remains, although somewhat altered from its 
original appearance. It was erected about 1735 by the 
Delancey family, then one of the most distinguished and 
opulent in New York, and was considered equal in size 
and architectural display to any at that period in the city. 

As a tavern, it was the most noted in New York and 
was the resort of the bloods of that day, who formed them- 
selves into social clubs, and among whom were some of the 
most active and distinguished men of the Revolution. 
Samuel Fraunces, or as he was familiarly called, Black 
Sam (in consequence of his swarthy complexion), was of 
French extraction, and appears to have been a prince of a 
publican. He purchased the house in 1762, from Oliver 
Delancey, for 2,000, provincial currency, but did not 
open it as a public house until some time afterwards. 

The first notice of Sam that we have been able to dis- 
cover, is an advertisement in Parker's Post Boy, February 

1 This is the manner in which he signed his name, and is thus recorded 
by him in the Deed of Conveyance m 1785- 


5, 1761, by which it appears that he not only acted as 
landlord but did considerable business as a dealer in different 
kinds of preserves. Here is the advertisement : 

" To be sold at a very reasonable rate, by Samuel Francis, 
at the Sign of the Masons' Arms near the Green, New 
York, a small quantity of portable soup, catchup, bottled 
gooseberries, pickled walnuts, pickled or fryed oisters, fit to 
go to the West Indias, pickled mushrooms, a large assort- 
ment of sweetmeats, such as currant jelly, marmalade, 
quinces, grapes, strawberries and sundry other sorts." 

The Masons' Arms was very popular under the manage- 
ment of Sam as a Mead and Tea Garden, places much fre- 
quented by both sexes on pleasant afternoons. On pur- 
chasing the Broad Street house, Sam sold out this, and it is 
thus announced in the same paper: 

"May 13, 1762, John Jones Begs leave to acquaint the 
publick, That he has removed 'to the house formerly kept 
by Samuel Francis, at the Sign of the Masons' Arms, next 
to Mr. Degrusia, in the Fields, where he intends to give 
the same entertainment as formerly given by Mr. Francis, 
and that in the best manner. Those Gentlemen and Ladies 
that please to favour him with their company, may depend 
on the best usage from their humble servant, John Jones." 
He threw open Vauxhall Gardens, which formerly stood 
in Greenwich Street, near the site afterwards occupied by 
Stuart's Sugar Refinery but which he again resold in 1771, 
and opened the much more celebrated tavern in Broad 

During the troubles which preceded the Revolution, 


Fraunces Tavern seems to have been the resort of both 
Whig and Loyalist, political affairs not having sufficient 
power to sever the social ties of those whose custom it was 
to assemble there and discuss his Madeira, a wine, the ex- 
cellent quality of which Sam's cellar stood proverbial. It 
must not be presumed that Sam was an idle spectator of the 
events then passing around him : his sympathies were with 
the Whigs, and he became one of Washington's most faith- 
ful friends and followers. It was through the instrumental- 
ity of his daughter that the attempt to poison Washington 
was frustrated, she being at that time housekeeper at Rich- 
mond Hill, his quarters. This house was one of those 
which suffered some injury from the broadside of the Asia 
when she fired upon the city. Freneau in one of his poems, 
thus speaks of it : 

Scarce a broadside was ended, till another began again 
By Jove ! it was nothing but Fire away Flannagan ! ' 
Some thought him saluting his Sally's and Nancy's 
Till he drove a round shot thro' the roof of Sam Francis." 

Notwithstanding this belligerent demonstration, the social 
club still continued its weekly meetings for some time. A 
list of the members of this club was found among the 
papers of the late John Moore, one of the members and 
presented to the New York Historical Society, by his son, 
Thos. W. C. Moore, which contains some very curious re- 
marks which we here insert in full. 

" List of Members of the Social Club, which passed 
Saturday evenings at Sam Francis's corner of Broad and 



Dock Street, in winter, and in summer at Kip's Bay, where 
they built a neat, large room for the Club House. The 
British landed at this spot the day they took the city, I5th 
September, 1776." 

Members of this Club dispersed in December, 1775, and 
never afterwards assembled. 

John Jay 

Gouveneur Morris " 

Robt. R. Livingston u 

Egbert Benson " 

Morgan Lewis " 

Gulian Verplanck 

John Livingston and 
his brother Henry 
James Seagrove 

Francis Lewis 
John Watts 

Leonard Lispenard and 
his brother Anthony 

(Disaffected) Became Member of Con- 
gress, a Resident Minister 
to Spain, Commissioner to 
make peace, Chief Justice, 
Minister to England, and 
on his return, Governor of 
New York a good and 
amiable man. 

Member of Congress, Min- 
ister to France, etc. 
Minister to France, Chan- 
cellor of New York, etc. 
District Judge, New York, 
and in the Legislature. 
Good man. 

Governor of New York 
and a General in the war of 

but in Europe till 1783 
President of New York 

but of no political impor- 

went to the southward as a 

but of no political impor- 

doubtful during the war 
Recorder of New York, 
but remained quiet at New 



Rich'd Harrison (Loyal) 

John Hay " 

but has since been Recordei 

of New York. 

an officer in the British 

Peter Van Schaack 
Daniel Ludlow " 

Dr. S. Bard 

George Ludlow " 

William his brother " 

William Imlay " 

Edward Goold 

John Reade (Pro and Con) 

J. Stevens (Disaffected) 

Henry Kelly, (Loyal) 

Stephen Rapelye 

John Moore Loyal 

Army. Killed in West 

a lawyer, remained quiet at 

during the war since Pres- 
ident of Manhattan Bank, 
though in 1775 doubtful, 
remained in New York a 
good man. 

remained on Long Island in 
quiet. A good man. 
or supposed so remained 
on Long Island. Inoffen- 
sive man. 

at first, but doubtful after 

at New York all the war 
a merchant. 

would have proved loyal, 
no doubt, had not his wife's 
family been otherwise. 

went to England and did not 


turned out bad died in the 

New York Hospital. 

in public life all the war 

and from year, 1765. 

While the city was in possession of the British nothing 
of interest seems to have transpired within the house. The 
25th day of November, 1783, being the time fixed upon for 
the exodus of the British troops, arrangements were made for 
the triumphal entry of Washington and the American 
army to take possession of the city. On the morning of 


that day, a cold, frosty, but clear and brilliant morning 
the troops under General Knox encamped at Harlem, 
marched to the Bowery lane, and halted at the present 
junction of Third Avenue and the Bowery. There they 
remained until about one o'clock in the afternoon when the 
British left their posts in that vicinity and marched to 
Whitehall. The American troops followed, and before 
three o'clock General Knox took formal possession of Fort 
George, amid the acclamations of thousands of emancipated 
freemen and the roar of artillery upon the Battery. Wash- 
ington repaired to his quarters at Fraunces Tavern, and 
there, during the afternoon, Governor Clinton gave a pub- 
lic dinner to the officers of the army, and in the evening the 
town was brilliantly illuminated. But the most remarkable 
event connected with the history of the house and which has 
rendered it the greatest monument to perpetuate the virtues 
and patriotism of Washington, is the fact that in it he vir- 
tually resigned the charge which he had assumed on taking 
command of the army. In the room on the second story 
occurred the scene of his taking leave of his officers, men 
who had suffered with him in all the dangers and privations 
of that protracted struggle which brought us liberty, devoted 
and ready to follow his lead in any enterprise. What a 
noble spectacle does that scene present to the mind for con- 
templation how unlike other leaders in similar movements, 
who, after having successfully obtained their purposes, seize 
the reins of government, assisted by a victorious army 
and elevate themselves to the supreme power by trampling 
upon the liberties of the people. 


At this time great discontent existed throughout the army 
occasioned by the coldness of Congress to the numerous 
petitions which had been presented to obtain relief. The 
Newburgh letters proceeded from that cause. Many of 
the best friends of America began to entertain doubts as to 
the States being able to sustain themselves, and that anarchy 
would rule. In view of this state of affairs, overtures had 
been made to the chief to elect him king, but virtue was 
stronger than power ; he declined the proffer, with an ad- 
monition to those who offered it which they could never 

The City of New York has made many futile attempts 
to erect to the memory of Washington a suitable monu- 
ment. It has already been done. The preservation of 
Fraunces Tavern is the greatest monument that can be 
conceived or erected. Let the demagogue who would 
barter the liberties of his country for his personal aggran- 
dizement visit it, and stand within that room where the 
greatest of men resigned his power and became a simple 
farmer again ; and will not that bright example bring him 
back to his duty again ? It may become a second Mecca 
to bring the faithful to behold the room in which occurred 
the scene of his greatness and magnanimity. 

On Thursday, December 4, 1783, the principal officers 
of the army assembled at Fraunces's to take a final leave of 
their beloved chief. The scene is described as one of great 
tenderness. Washington entered the room where they 
were all waiting, and, taking a glass of wine in his hand, 
he said : " With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now 


take leave of you. I most devoutly wish that your latter 
days may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones 
have been glorious and honourable." Having drank, he 
continued : " I cannot come to each of you to take my 
leave, but shall be obliged to you if each will come and 
take me by the hand." Knox, who stood nearest to him, 
turned and grasped his hand, and, while the tears flowed 
down the cheeks of each, the commander'-in-chief kissed 
him. This he did to each of his officers, while tears and 
sobs stifled utterance. Washington soon left the room, 
and passing through a corps of light infantry, he walked in 
silence to Whitehall, followed by a vast procession, and at 
two o'clock entered a barge to proceed to Paulus Hook, on 
his way to Mount Vernon. 

Sam Fraunces kept the house until 1785, when he sold it. 

On the election of Washington to the Presidency, Sam 
was appointed steward to his establishment. An anecdote 
is related of Sam, who was always anxious to provide the 
first dainties of the season for the General's table. It 
appears that Sam, on making his purchases at the old Fly 
Market, observed a fine shad, the first of the season; he 
was not long in making the bargain, and it was sent home 
with his other purchases. Next morning it was duly served 
up in Sam's best style for the General's breakfast. The 
General on sitting down to the table observed the fish and 
asked Sam what it was. He replied " that it was a fine 
shad." " It is very early in the season for them," rejoined 
the General, " how much did you pay for it ? " u Two 
dollars," said Sam. " Two dollars ! I can never encour- 


age this extravagance at my table," replied Washington, 
<l take it away I will not touch it." The shad was ac- 
cordingly removed, and Sam, who had no such economical 
scruples, made a hearty meal on the fish at his own table. 



r I ^HIS college was established in 1693, with Blair for 
JL its president, Governor Nicholson, with seventeen 
other persons appointed by the assembly, formed the board 
of trustees. From the outset Nicholson was warmly in 
sympathy with the enterprise, but now this friend was called 
away for a time. In the anti-Catholic fervour which at- 
tended the accession of King William and Queen Mary, 
the palatinate government in Maryland had been over- 
turned and the new Royal Governor Sir Lionel Copley, 
died in 1693. Nicholson was then promoted from Deputy- 
Governor of Virginia to be Governor of Maryland. About 
the same time Lord Howard of Effingham resigned or was 
removed, and Sir Edmund Andros was sent out to Virginia 
as Governor. It may seem a strange appointment in view 
of the obloquy which Andros had incurred at the north. 
But in all these appointments William III. seems to have 
acted upon a consistent policy of not disturbing, except in 
cases of necessity, the state of things which he found. As 
a rule he retained in his service the old officials against 
whom no grave charges were brought; and while the per- 

1 From John Fiske's Old Virginia and Her Neighbours (Boston, 1899), 
by permission of and special arrangement with Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin 
& Co., publishers of Mr. Fiske's writings. 


sonality of Andros was Hot prepossessing, there can be no 
doubt as to his integrity. 

Nicholson's career as Royal Governor of Maryland lasted 
until 1698, while Andros was having a hard time in Vir- 
ginia trying to enforce with rigour the Navigation Act and 
to make life miserable for Dr. Blair. His conduct was far 
more moderate than it had been in New England, but he 
had his full share of trouble in Virginia. The moving 
cause of his hostility to the College of William and Mary 
is not distinctly assigned, but he is not unlikely to have be- 
lieved, like many a dullard of his stripe, that education is 
apt to encourage a seditious and forward spirit. He did 
everything he could think of to thwart and annoy President 
Blair. At the election of burgesses he predicted that the 
establishment of a college would be sure to result in a ter- 
rible increase of taxes. He tried to persuade subscribers to 
withhold the payment of their subscriptions. He sought 
to arouse an absurd prejudice against Scotchmen, for which 
it was rather late in the day. Finally he connived at gross 
insults to the president and friends of the college. Among 
the young men to whom Andros showed especial favour 
was Daniel Parke, whose grandson, Daniel Parke Custis, is 
now remembered as the first husband of Martha Washing- 
ton. This young Daniel did some things to which pos- 
terity could hardly point with pride. He is described as a 
" sparkish gentleman," or as some would say, a slashing 
blade. He was an expert with the rapier, and anxious to 
thrust it between the ribs of people who supported the col- 
lege. His challenges were numerous, but clergymen could 


not be reached in such a way. So " he set up a claim to 
the pew in church in which Mrs. Blair sat, and one Sun- 
day," as we are told, " with fury and violence he pulled her 
out of it in the presence of the minister and congregation, 
who were greatly scandalized at this ruffian and profane 
action." 1 

This was going too far. The stout Scotchman had pow- 
erful friends in London ; the outrage was discussed in 
Lambeth Palace ; and Sir Edmund Andros, for winking at 
such behaviour, was removed. He was evidently a slow- 
witted official. His experiences in Boston, with Parson 
Willard of the Old South, ought to have cured him of his 
propensity to quarrel with aggressive and resolute clergy- 
men. For two or three years after going home, Sir Ed- 
mund governed the little channel island of Jersey, and the 
rest of his days were spent in retirement, until his death 
in 1714. 

The system of absentee Governors occasionally exempli- 
fied in such cases as those of Lord Delaware and Lord 
Howard, was now to be permanently adopted. A great 
favourite with William III. was George Hamilton Douglas, 
whose distinguished gallantry at the Battle of the Boyne 
and other occasions had been rewarded with the earldom of 
Orkney. In 1697 he was appointed governor-in-chief of 
Virginia, and for the next forty years he drew his annual 
salary of ^"1,200 without ever crossing the ocean. Hence- 
forth the official who represented him in Virginia was en- 
titled Lieutenant-Governor, and the first was Francis 
1 William and Mary College Quarterly, I., 65. 


Nicholson, who was brought back from Maryland in 

One of Nicholson's achievements in Maryland had been 
the change of seat of government from St. Mary's to An- 
napolis. He now proceeded to make a similar change in 
Virginia. After perishing in Bacon's rebellion, Jamestown 
was rebuilt by Lord Culpepper, but in the last decade of 
the century it was again destroyed by an accidental fire, 
and has never since risen from its ashes. Of that sacred 
spot, the first abiding-place of Englishmen in America, 
nothing now is left but the ivy-mantled ruins of the church- 
tower and a few cracked and crumbling tombstones. 

Jamestown had always a bad reputation for malaria, and 
after its second burning people were not eager to restore it. 
Plans for moving the government elsewhere had been con- 
sidered on more than one occasion. In 1699 the choice 
fell upon the site of Middle Plantation, half-way between 
James and York Rivers, with its salubrious air and whole- 
some water. It had already, in 1693, ^ een se l ecte d as tne 
site of the new college. Nicholson called the place Will- 
iamsburg, and began building a town there with streets so 
laid out as to make W and M, the initials of the king 
and queen, a plan soon abandoned as inconvenient. 
The town thus founded by Nicholson remained the capital 
of Virginia until 1780, when it was superseded by Rich- 

Nicholson was in full sympathy with President Blair as 
regarded the college, but occasions for disagreement be- 
tween them were at hand. On the Lieutenant-Governor's 


arrival the wise parson read him a lesson upon the need 
for moderation in the display of his powers. The career 
of his predecessor Andros, in more than one Colony, fur- 
nished abundant examples of the need for such moderation. 
Blair offered him some good advice tendered by the Bishop 
of Lincoln, whereupon Nicholson exclaimed, with a big 
round oath : " I know how to govern Virginia and Mary- 
land better than all the bishops in England. If I had not 
hampered them in Maryland and kept them under, I should 
never have been able to govern them." The doctor re- 
plied : " Sir, I do not pretend to [speak for] Maryland, 
but if I know anything of Virginia, they are a good-natured 
[and] tractable people as any in the world, and you may do 
anything with them by way of civility, but you will never 
be able to manage them in that way you speak of, by 
hampering and keeping them under." The eccentric gov- 
ernor did not profit by this advice. . . . 

Nicholson was recalled to England in 1705. Afterwards 
we find him commanding the expedition which in 1710 
captured the Acadian Port Royal from the French. He 
then served as Governor of the newly conquered Nova 
Scotia and afterwards of South Carolina, was knighted, rose 
to the rank of Lieutenant-General and died in 1728. 

Meanwhile the College of William and Mary, in which 
Nicholson felt so much interest, was flourishing. Unfor- 
tunately its first hall, designed by Sir Christopher Wren, 
was destroyed by fire in 1705, but it was before long re- 
placed by another. Until 1712, the faculty consisted of the 
president, a grammar-master, writing-master and an usher j 


in that year a professor of mathematics was added. In 
1729, there were six professors. Fifty years later the de- 
partments of law and medicine were added, and the name 
" College " was replaced by " University." 

As in the case of Harvard, it was hoped that this college 
might prove effective in converting and educating Indians. 
In 1723, Brafferton Hall was built for their use, from a 
fund given by Robert Boyle, the famous chemist. It is still 
standing and used as ajiormitory. We are told that the 
" Queen of Pamunkey " sent her son to college with a boy 
to wait upon him, and likewise two chief's sons, " all hand- 
somely cloathed after the Indian fashion " ; but as to any 
effects wrought upon the barbarian mind by this Christian 
institution of learning, there is nothing to which we can 

The first Commencement exercises were held in the year 
1700, and it is said that not only were Virginians and In- 
dians present on that gala day, but so great was the fame of 
it that people came in sloops from Maryland and Pennsyl- 
vania and even from New York. The journals of what 
we may call the " faculty meetings " throw light upon the 
manner of living at the college. There is a matron or 
housekeeper, who is thus carefully instructed: " i. That 
you never concern yourself with any of the Boys only 
when you have a Complaint against any of them, and then 
that you make it to his or their proper Master. 2. That 
there be always both fresh and salt Meat for Dinner; and 
twice in the Week, as well as on Sunday in particular, that 
there be either Puddings or Pies besides ; that there be al- 


ways Plenty of Victuals ; that Breakfast, Dinner and Sup- 
per be se.rv'd up in the cleanest and neatest manner pos- 
sible ; and for this Reason the Society not only allow but de- 
sire you to get a Cook ; that the Boy's Suppers be not as 
usual made up of different Sqraps, but that there be at each 
Table the same Sort : and when there is cold fresh Meat 
enough, that it be often hashed for them j and that when 
they are sick, you yourself see their Victuals before it be 
carried to them, that it be clean, decent and fit for them ; 
that the Person appointed to take Care of them be constantly 
with them, and give their Medicine regularly. The general 
Complaints of the Visitors and other Gentlemen through- 
out the whole Colony, plainly shew the Necessity of a 
strict and regular Compliance with the above Directions. 
. . . 4. That a proper Stocking-mender be procured 
to live in or near the college, and as both Masters and 
Boys complain of losing their Stockings, you are desired to 
look over their Notes given with their Linnen to the Wash, 
both at the Delivery and return of them. . , . 5. That 
the Negroes be trusted with no keys; . . . that 
fresh Butter be look'd out for in Time, that the Boys may 
not be forced to eat salt in Summer.- 6. As we all know 
that Negroes will not perform their Duties without the 
Mistress' constant Eye, especially in so large a Family as the 
College, and as we all observe You going abroad more 
frequently then even the Mistress of a private Family can 
do without the affairs of her province greatly suffering, 
\Ve particularly request it of you, that your visits for the 
future in Town and Country may not be so frequent, by 


which Means we doubt not but Complaints will be greatly 
lessened." * 

At another meeting it is ordered that " y 1 no scholar be- 
longing to any school in the College of w l Age, Rank, or 
Quality, soever, do keep any race Horse at y e College, in 
y e Town or anywhere in the neighbourhood y* they be 
not any way concerned in making races, or in backing, or 
abetting, those made by others, and y l all Race Horses, 
kept in y e neighbourhood of y e College, etc., belonging to 
any of y e scholars, be immediately dispatched and sent off 
and never again brought back, and all of this under Pain of 
y e severest Animadversion and Punishment." 

There is a stress in the wording of this order which makes 
one suspect that the faculty had encountered difficulty in 
suppressing horse-racing. Similar orders forbid students to 
take part in cock-fighting, to frequent "y e Ordinaries," to 
bet, to play at billiards, or to bring cards or dice into the 
college. Punishment is most emphatically threatened for 
any student who may " presume to go out of y e Bounds of 
y e College, particularly towards the mill-pond " without 
express leave ; but why the mill-pond was to be so sedu- 
lously shunned we are left to conjecture. Finally, " to 
y e End y* no Person may pretend Ignorance of y e foregoing 
Regulations, . . it is Ordered . . . 
y l a clear and legible copy of y m be posted up in every 
School of y e College." 2 

One of the brightest traditions in the history of the col- 

1 William and Mary College Quarterly, III., 263. 
8 William and Mary College Quarterly, II., 55-6. 


lege is that which tells of the wooing and wedding of 
Parson Camm, a gentleman famous once, whose fame de- 
serves to be revived. John Camm was born in 1718 and 
educated at Trinity College, Cambridge. He was a man 
of good scholarship and sturdy character, an uncompro- 
mising Tory, one of the leaders in that " Parsons' Cause," 
which made Patrick Henry famous. He lived to be the 
last president of William and Mary before the Revolution. 
After he had attained middle age, but while he was as yet 
only a preacher and professor, and like all professors in 
those days at William and Mary a bachelor, there came to 
him the romance which brightened his life. Among those 
who listened to his preaching was Miss Betsy Hansford, of 
the family of Hansford, the rebel and martyr. A young 
friend, who had wooed Miss Betsy without success, per- 
suaded the worthy parson to aid him with his eloquence. 
But it was in vain that Mr. Camm besieged the young 
lady with texts from the Bible enjoining matrimony as a 
duty. She proved herself able to beat him at his own 
game when she suggested that if the parson would go home 
and look at 2 Samuel xii. 7, he might be able to define the 
reason of her obduracy. When Mr. Camm proceeded to 
search the Scriptures, he found these significant words 
staring him in the face : " And Nathan said to David, 
Thou art the man ! " The sequel is told in an item of the 
Virginia Gazette, announcing the marriage of Rev. John 
Camm and Miss Betsy Hansford. 

So, Virginia, too, had its Priscilla ! In the words of the 
sweet mediaeval poem : 


" El fait que dame, et si fait bien, 
Car sos ciel n'a si france rien 
Com est dame qui violt amer, 
Quant Deus la violt a go torner : 
Deus totes dames beneie." l 

But this marriage was an infringement of the customs of 
the college, and was rebuked in an order that hereafter the 
marriage of a professor should ipso facto vacate his office. 

The college founded by James Blair was a most valuable 
centre for culture in Virginia, and has been remarkable in 
many ways. It was the first college in America to intro- 
duce teaching by lectures, and the elective system of study ; 
it was the first to unite a group of faculties into a uni- 
versity ; it was the second in the English world to have a 
chair of Municipal Law, George Wythe coming to such a 
professorship a few years after Sir William Blackstone ; it 
was the first in America to establish a chair of History and 
Political Science ; and it was one of the first to pursue a 
thoroughly secular and unsectarian policy. Though until 
lately its number of students at any one time had never 
reached one hundred and fifty, it has given to our country 
fifteen senators and seventy representatives in Congress; 
seventeen Governors of States, and thirty-seven judges; 
three Presidents of the United States, Jefferson, Monroe 
and Tyler; and the great Chief Justice Marshall. It was 
a noble work for America that was done by the Scotch 
parson, James Blair. 

1 Partenopeus de Biois 1250, ed. Crapelet, I. 45. "She acts like a 
woman, and so does well, for under the heavens there is nothing so 
daring as the woman who loves, when God wills to turn her that way 
God bless the ladies all 1 " 


WE enter the Golden Gate Park, where, a few years 
ago, the Pacific waves were rolling ; but these 
hundreds of acres have been reclaimed from the sea, and 
are planted with rare shrubs, young trees, evergreens and 
blooming flowers. It is tastefully laid out, a landscape 
garden and park in one ; there are picturesque winding 
paths and shady nooks and corpers where you can hide 
from the sun's searching rays, and, while you listen to the 
singing birds overhead, hear the boom of the breakers on 
the shore below. We pass through this paradise of green 
and reach a silent sea of yellow sandhills, smooth and soft 
as velvet, billowing round in graceful, undulating waves as 
far as the eye can reach ; there is a sudden curve, and the 
wide Pacific Sea, in all its glory, lies before us clothed in 
the sunshine, its white foam lips kissing the golden shore; 
its long level line stretched against the distant skies. We 
drove down to it ; nay, drove into it, and watched its tiny 
waves dimpling into a thousand welcomes beneath our 
wheels. The sun and sea conspired together to fill the 
air with balmy breezes. We felt the soft spray blowing in 
our faces, stirring our blood, and setting our cheeks aglow, 
and as we breathed the crisp, soft air, laden with three 
thousand miles of iodine, we seemed to be taking a draught 
of the elixir of life. 


On our way home we passed the old Mission ; at least, 
all that is left of it, which is not much the mere remnants 
of some redwood houses and the ancient church, a quaint- 
looking low-roofed home of desolation, with its adobe walls 
of sun-baked clay about four feet thick, which promise to 
withstand the encroaches of time a century longer. A 
chime of three bells still hangs in three square portholes; 
their long tongues red with rust, droop dumb and motion- 
less from their silent mouths. Only a hundred years ago 
they were brought from Castile, blessed by the holy fathers, 
and brought here to the edge of the wild Western world to 
ring out and summon the heathen and the wanderer to 
worship the one true God. 

You enter the ruined church through a low, arched door- 
way. The broken font is still there, but the last drop of 
holy water was spilled from it long ago. The mullioned 
windows are of a quaint fan-like shape and the genial sun 
tries to pierce through the grime and dust and send its 
beams dancing over the crumbled ruin within. The 
painted wooden shrines of St. Joseph and St. Francis (who 
gave the settlement of Yerba Buena the name of San 
Francisco) are still there. Near by are the Madonna and 
Child, but the paint has worn off and they are all dis- 
coloured and stained with the damp wind and the rain 
which drips, in the rainy season, from the dilapidated roof. 
The crumbling decorations, though they are of a rough, 
rude workmanship, still bear the stamp of artistic design, 
though crudely executed by unaccustomed hands, who 
laboured for the love of God. It is about a hundred feet 


from the threshold to the altar. Give reins to your imag- 
ination, set it galloping back a hundred years, and see the 
priests, the white nuns, and hooded friars clustered round 
the empty altar busy in the service of the Lord ; the aisles 
filled with kneeling Indians, who know little of the faith 
they have adopted except that there is an unknown God 
somewhere who makes their corn grow, watches over their 
lives here, with a promise of a life hereafter; men from 
Mexico, Peru, and Spain, and wanderers from all along the 
wild Pacific coast are standing reverently round j censers are 
swinging, lights are burning, and a choir of voices chant 
the Ave Marias. A Christian host gathered in that wilder- 
ness by the sea. Where are they all now ? Vanished like 
the children of a dream. 

A mouldy, funereal odour clings about the ruined walls, 
and we are glad to step out into the little graveyard outside, 
where the English hawthorn and white winter roses are 
blooming and the grass growing rich and luxuriant above 
the moss-grown graves. Whole tribes of Indians lie buried 
in the dust below our feet. There is no more desolate spot 
in the world than a disused graveyard. We read strange 
unfamiliar names upon the broken, half-buried stones, and 
crumbling urns, dilapidated angels and crippled cherubs are 
tottering round us. Here and there we decipher an Eng- 
lish name, and, beneath, the information : " Died by the 
hands of the V. C." ; " In mercy we slay the enemies of 
the Lord." The V. C. means the Vigilance Committee, 
who, in the early lawless days, executed justice swift and 
sure upon proven criminals. The strict justice of their 


decisions was never called in question. A certain number 
of men of known integrity were invested with supreme 
power of life or death, and the guilt of a man being once 
fully assured, he had a brief trial and swift execution. 
There was no legal quibbling, which often lets loose some 
atrocious criminal to prey upon the world again until, at 
the end, he is launched out of it. Near the low arched 
gateway stands the dilapidated figure of a woman, her sight- 
less eyes and lifted hands pointing upwards mute signifi- 
cance of one hope for all the miscellaneous dead. 

A fresh breeze was blowing outside, but here it seemed 
to hang heavy and still, laden with the damp odour of 
mouldering graves, which mingled with and destroyed the 
sweet scent of the flowers that are flourishing so luxuriantly 
above the dead. This was the first we had seen of the 
many remnants of the old mission days, when the Spanish 
Fathers first came to the wilderness to sow the good seed 
and reap the harvest in their Lord's name. 

About the year 1820 the mission began to decay, the 
soldiers were recalled from the Presidio, where they had 
been stationed for the protection of the friars and their 
property, and from that time the missions dwindled, till the 
Fathers were recalled to Spain. They carried with them 
all their cattle and movable goods, and left their buildings to 
decay. These are scattered throughout the State of 
California, wherever the Fathers held temporary sway. 
Still, though they and their labours have passed away, and 
are well-nigh forgotten, they have left their traces behind 
them : throughout the country we find the old Spanish 


names still clinging to the soil, such as Santa Clara, Santa 
Rosa, Santa Barbara, San Rafael, San Jose, Los Angeles, 
Monterey, Carmelo, etc. Mr. John S. Hittell has given in 
his history of California a most interesting and graphic: ac- 
count of these missions, their people, their work, and the 
effect upon the country from their first establishment to 
their decline. 

The city has grown out of the wilderness, and crowded 
so close to the crumbling walls of the ruined mission that 
as we leave the gloomy precincts we step out into the 
populous streets, which are full of hurry, bustle and vigor- 
ous young life. It is like stepping from the old century 
into the new. Gaily painted cars and omnibuses are dash- 
ng up and down the wide Mission Street, each following 
the other so quickly that before you can step into one, an- 
other is on its heels. 



THE Rose frigate must have seemed to the greater part 
of the Bostonians, or Bostoneers, as Randolph called 
them, freighted heavily with woe, bearing as it did the Rev. 
Robert Ratcliffe, of the Church of England, with his sur- 
plice and his book of Common Prayer ; to say nothing of 
the commission which appointed a president over them by 
the King's sole authority. It was as new to them and as 
disagreeable to have in their midst a settled clergyman of 
that church as it was to see at their head a ruler not of their 
own choosing. " There had been very few instances of 
even occasional assemblies for religious worship according 
to the rites and ceremonies of the Church of England for 
more than fifty years. When the commissioners from 
King Charles were at Boston in 1665, they had a chaplain 
with them, but there was no house for public worship. 
Most of the inhabitants who were upon the stage in 1686, 
had never seen a Church of England assembly" (Hutchin- 
son). The time was now come for the strange sight to be 
exhibited, and for the members of the Episcopal communion 
to rally under the countenance and influence of the Royal 
government. It should be stated, too, that the general 
court had declared in 1677, that no persons should be hin- 
dered from performing divine service according to the 



Church of England. The way therefore appeared to lay 
smooth and open for the Episcopalians to introduce their 
forms of worship and government. 

As Randolph had the chief hand in overturning the old 
charter of the Colony, so was he most active and efficient 
in establishing an Episcopalian Church here, and procuring 
the services of a clergyman from England. 

Randolph carried his two great ends, the destruction of 
the original Massachusetts Charter, and the importation 
and introduction of an Episcopal clergyman. 

On the 1 5th of May, 1686, as I have before stated, ar- 
rived the Rose frigate, commanded by Captain George. 
On the 25th Dudley entered on the duties of his temporary 
presidency. On the 26th, Mr. Ratcliffe waited on the 
council and Mr. Mason and Randolph proposed that he 
should have one of the three Congregational meeting-houses 
to preach in. This was denied, but he was granted the use 
of the library room in the east end of the town house, which 
then stood where the Old State House, or, as its present 
name is, the City Hall, now stands. 

This was truly an humble beginning for those who made 
such high pretensions as did these zealous Royalists and 
churchmen. As they assembled in the east end of the town 
house, and looked round on their twelve forms and their 
movable pulpit, they must have felt the contrast between 
such a tabernacle and the solemn old cathedrals at home ; 
and have felt, too, that they were among a people who, 
though of the same blood as themselves, were strangers to 
their mode of faith and worship, despising what they es- 


teemed most sacred, and setting at nought the power which 
they deemed unquestionable. 

On the 23d of March, 1687, the Governor (Sir Edmund 
Andros) sent Mr. Randolph for the keys of the South meet- 
ing house, now called the Old South, that the Episcopa- 
lians might have prayers there. A committee of six, of 
whom Judge Sewall was one, thereupon waited on his 
Excellency to show that the house was their own prop- 
erty, and to repeat that they could not consent to part 
with it to such use. This was on Wednesday. The 
following Friday, which was Good Friday, Sir Edmund 
Andros sent to command the sexton of the South church 
to open the door and ring the bell for those of the Church 
of England. The sexton, though he had resolved not 
to do so, was persuaded or intimidated into compliance, 
and the Governor and his party took possession of the 
house, and the church service was performed there. 

We now approach the close of Andres's tyrannical gov- 
ernment, which was brought about through the influence 
of one of the most auspicious changes in the government 
of the mother country, the Glorious Revolution, as it is 
called, of 1688. The spring succeeding the landing of 
William of Orange at Torbay, news was brought to Boston 
of the event, by way of Virginia, by a Mr. Win slow. 
Sunday, the 26th of May, the joyful news arrived of the 
proclaiming of William and Mary and on the 2Qth, the 
proclamation was published in Boston with great ceremony. 
Late in the year, an order from the King was received, re- 
quiring that Sir Edmund Andros, Edward Randolph, John 


Trefry, and others that had been seized by the people of 
Boston, should be sent to England in the first ship bound 
thither, and in February, 1690, they embarked, and Boston 
was rid of them and their tyranny. 

Mr. Ratcliffe and his assistant, Mr. Clark, must have 
also gone back to England about this time, as I find no 
notice of either of them, after the disposition of Andros. 
But in the meantime, the Episcopal Church had been built. 
How the land was procured, or of whom, when the build- 
ing was dedicated, or by whom, there is no record, or if 
there be one, I have not met with it. 

This first church was built of wood. It stood on the 
spot covered by the present church, but did not occupy 
nearly so much ground. In an old engraving which I have 
examined, representing the town of Boston as it was in 
1720, this church, among others, is introduced. It stands 
in the same position with the present one, has a square 
tower at the west end, from the roof of which rises a staff 
supporting the vane, and just under the vane is a large and 
quite observable crown. It was the fifth house of public 
worship erected in Boston. The Congregational houses 
were then three in number, and the Baptists had succeeded 
in building themselves a church several years before the 
Episcopalians commenced theirs. 

In the beginning of the year 1702, news was received of 
the death of King William, and the Church was put in 
mourning. Before his decease, Mr. Joseph Dudley, who 
had rendered himself so obnoxious here, as in many things 
the coadjutor, and, for his own selfish ends almost the 


creature of Randolph, had interest enough to obtain while 
in London, the appointment of Governor of Massachusetts, 
which he had so long and eagerly coveted. On his reap- 
pearance in Boston, invested with his new dignity, he was 
received kindly and with a forgetfulness of past offences. 
He joined himself to the congregation of Queen's Chapel, 
as it was now called, on the accession of Queen Anne ; 
and his name, together with that of the Lieutenant-Gover- 
nor, constantly appears on the list of vestrymen. 

At the Easter meeting in 1708, it was "agreed, that on 
Whitsunmonday there be a meeting of the congregation 
about enlarging the Queen's Chappell." The work, how- 
ever, seems not to have been commenced till the year 1710, 
when a subscription was raised to effect its accomplishment. 
It amounted, indeed, to a rebuilding of the church, which 
was enlarged to twice its original size ; nor was it till the 
year 1713, that the pillars, capitals and cornice were painted, 
and the scaffolding taken down. Places were assigned anew 
to the proprietors, and each person paid for the building of 
his own pew. And whereas the pews had been built be- 
fore, according to the usual fashion, with little rails or 
banisters running round the top, it was now voted that 
they should " be built in one forme without banisters." 
The pulpit was removed from its former situation " to the 
next pillar at the East, being near the centre of the Church." 
The two long pews fronting the pulpit were made into two 
square pews, one for Col. Tailer, Lieutenant-Governor, the 
other for Mr. Jekyll, and the two pews behind them were 
made into one, for the use of masters of vessels ; and the 


pew behind that was appropriated to the accommodation 
of eight old men. A shell was placed over the south 

A clock was given by "the Gentlemen of the British 
Society " ; and a more important present, that of an organ, 
demands a more particular notice. 

A Record o Votes and Resolutions, etc., together with some 
brief Memoirs of the Transactions relating to the Rebuilding 
King's Chapel in Boston begins with stating that King's 
Chapel was first erected of wood in the year 1688, that it 
was enlarged in 1710, and being found in the year 1741 in 
a state of considerable decay, that it was proposed to rebuild 
it of stone. The Rev. Roger Price was at that time " min- 
ister," and William Shirley, Esq. (about the same time 
appointed Governor of the Province), and Mr. Sam'l Went- 
worth, wardens. A voluntary subscription was set on foot, 
and Peter Faneuil, Esq., chosen treasurer for receiving sums 
subscribed. The building was to be stone and cost .25,- 
OOO old tenor. It was not to be commenced till .10,000 
were subscribed. 

In March, 1753, the new church being so far advanced 
that it was necessary to desert the old one, the congrega- 
tion requested and obtained leave to meet in Trinity Church 
on Sundays, at separate hours from the congregation of that 
church, and on festival and prayer days in Mr. Croswell's 
meeting-house. In April the old church was pulled down. 
Before it falls to the ground, let us take such a glimpse 
of its venerable interior, as the mist of dim ages will 
allow us. 


Since the enlargement of the Chapel in 1710, and the 
erection subsequently of galleries, it contained 122 pews, of 
which number 82 were on the ground floor. But these 
pews must have been small, as the present church contains 
no more. The pulpit was on the north side of the church, 
at about the midst. A finely decorated pew for the Gov- 
ernor who sat successively in it, was opposite; and near 
it there was another pew reserved for the officers of the 
British Army and Navy. In the west gallery of this first 
Episcopal Church was the first organ which ever pealed to 
the praise of God in this country ; while displayed along 
its walls, and suspended from its pillars, after the manner of 
foreign churches, were escutcheons and coats-of-arms being 
those of the King, Sir Edmund Andros, Francis Nicholson. 
Captain Hamilton, and Governors Dudley, Shute, Burnet, 
Belcher and Shirley. In the pulpit there was an hour- 
glass, according to the old fashion, mounted on a large and 
elaborate stand of brass. At the east end there was " the 
Altar piece, whereon was the Glory painted, the Ten Com- 
mandments, the Lord's Prayer, the Creed and some texts of 
Scripture." It was a strange sight among the bare churches 
of New England. 

In 1756 the noble organ which now stands in our west 
gallery was procured from England, and paid for by the sub- 
scription of individuals belonging to the church. Its orig- 
inal cost in London was 500 sterling; and when all 
charges were added, its whole expense amounted to ^637. 
As it was obtained by private subscription, no notice of it 
whatever is taken in the church records. The only 


memorial concerning it with which I am acquainted, is a 
paragraph in the Boston Gazette and Country Journal of 3<Dth 
of August, 1756, which is copied into our later records, 
and is as follows : 

" We hear that the organ, which lately arrived from 
London by Capt. Farr for King's Chapel in this Town, 
will be opened on Thursday next in the Afternoon ; and 
that said organ (which contains a variety of curious stops 
never yet heard in these parts) is esteemed by the most 
eminent masters in England, to be equal, if not superior to 
any of the same size in Europe. There will be a ser- 
mon suitable to the occasion; Prayers to begin at four 

There is a very current tradition respecting this organ, 
that it was selected by Handel himself. Taking into con- 
sideration the above reference to " the most eminent masters 
in England," we may receive this tradition as founded in 
truth. And, moreover, as the organ was designed for the 
King's Chapel in New England, we may readily suppose 
that his Majesty's favourite musician would at least be de- 
sired to give his opinion of its merits j and this opinion, 
being favourable, might be called a selection, even if the 
" mighty master " gave himself no further trouble with its 
purchase. Handel died in 1758, and was blind eight years 
before his death. But sight was not at all necessary in 
the office supposed to be consigned to him, and though his 
eyes never could have measured the external proportions of 
this organ, his ears must probably have judged of its tones 
and powers and his own hands rested on its keys. 


In 1772, an additional service of plate, together with 
new pulpit furniture, was obtained from the King through 
the influence of Governor Hutchinson. In 1773, the an- 
cient records end. A short time previous to the breaking 
out of the war, and through the whole of the year 1775, 
King's Chapel was the place of worship of many of the 
officers of the Navy and Army of Great Britain, who were 
stationed in and near Boston ; and the duties of Dr. 
Caner and his assistant were consequently much increased. 

The Chapel remained closed till the autumn of 1777* 
and then it was opened, not for Episcopal but Congrega- 
tional services, very contrary to all the anticipations of 
Dr. Caner. The congregation of the Old South Church, 
not being able at that time to repair the desola- 
tions of their own sanctuary, which had been desecrated, 
spoiled, and used as a riding-school by the British troops, 
applied for the use of King's Chapel, or the Stone 
Chapel, as it then for obvious reasons began to be called. 
The application was made to the few proprietors of the 
Chapel who were left, and was readily granted. " The 
congregation," says Mr. Wisner, in his History of the Old 
South Church, " were kindly and gratuitously accommodated 
at the Chapel about five years." 

Our church as a building has undergone no considerable 
change since the Revolution, except the erection of the 
colonnade at the West End, or Front, which was put up in 
the year 1790. The crown and mitre have, to be sure, 
disappeared from their stations on the top of the organ, and 
the Governor's pew, with its Corinthian pillars and crimson 


damask tapestry, has been taken down and converted into 
two pews of common size and pretensions. But the 
architecture and interior arrangements, are, in all other 
respects, the same as before the war. 



NOTWITHSTANDING the mosquito nuisance anc 
bad drainage, the traveller's first impression of 
Havana is distinctly agreeable, and the pleasing illusion is 
never completely destroyed. The harbour is wonderfully 
picturesque. Opposite the entrance stands the Moro 
Castle, almost a facsimile of that curious little castellated 
Moorish fortress which faces the beautiful monastery and 
Church of Belem, at Lisbon. To the left are two rather 
sharp promontories, crested by several fine churches, on 
Los Angeles, fully two hundred years old an age in the 
New World, corresponding to hoar antiquity in the Old, 
beyond these, upon a number of low-lying hills, rises the 
city, an irregular mass of one-storied dwellings, painted a 
vivid ochre, and interspersed with church domes and towers 
with here and there tall, lank cocoa palms, or a tuft of 
banana leaves waving over some garden wall. Vessels from 
every part of the world, feluccas, with their swallow-shaped 
sails, some dazzling white, others a deep-red brown, fill up 
the foreground whilst canoe-like market boats laden with 
tropical fruits, fish, vegetables and flowers, and rowed by 
negroes naked to the waist, scud in all directions over the 
deep blue waters. 

Arriving, as I did, from New York, which I had A eft deep 


in snow, this summer scene was most exhilarating, and the 
exceeding transparency of the Cuban atmosphere added 
considerably to its beauty. Everything seemed unusual, 
novel, and, above all, utterly unlike what I had expected. 
The impress of the mother-country, Spain, is felt and seen 
everywhere, and modern American influences are barely 
perceptible, as yet. From the sea Havana might be 
Malaga or Cadiz, but when you land, memories of Pompeii 
immediately crowd upon you. What we should call the 
city proper, the commercial quarter of the Cuban capital, 
consists of a labyrinth of narrow lanes, traversed by one or 
two broadish streets, the principal of which, known all 
over Southern America and the West Indies as Calle 
O'Reilly, runs from the Governor's Palace, right out to 
the walls of the city. Few of the houses which line these 
lanes and alleys are more than one story high, but that one 
story so exceedingly lofty, that it would make three in an 
average London dwelling. The lower half of every house 
is painted either a deep darkish blue, a deep Egyptian red, 
or a vivid yellow ochre j the upper part is always a dazzling 
white. As in Pompeii you notice rows of stucco columns, 
painted half one colour, half another. Peeping through 
the ever-open doorways, you may, as you pass along, obtain 
something more than a mere casual glimpse of the interior 
of the dwellings. If you are early enough, you may behold 
the family at its toilet, for there is very little privacy any- 
where in Cuba, every act, from entry into life to its final 
exit, from baptism to burial, being serenely performed in 
the utmost publicity. The lower windows, overlooking 


the street, are protected by heavy, iron bars, and behind 
these you may, in certain quarters of the town, see lively 
groups of Havanese Geishas, their faces thickly powdered 
with rice flour, their long black hair plaited, and their opu- 
lent charms displayed to liberal advantage " sono donn che 
fano all' amore ! " These same curious overhanging win- 
dows, with their iron bars, would give the place a prison- 
like appearance, were they not painted in the most brilliant 
colours, orange, scarlet, and pea-green. 

There is no West End, so to speak, in Havana, the 
mansions of the wealthy being scattered through every part 
of the city. Some of the finer houses are exceedingly hand- 
some, but they are all built on one plan, in the classical 
style, with an inner courtyard, surrounded by handsome 
marble or stucco columns. I imagine them to be designed 
much on the same plan as the villas of ancient Rome. In 
the centre of the Pateo, there is generally a garden, rich in 
tropical vegetation, shading either a fountain or a large 
gilded aviary full of brilliant parrots and parrakeets. In 
some houses there is a picture or statue of the Virgin, or 
some Saint, with a silver lamp burning before it day and 
night. In the Pateo the family assembles of an evening, 
the ladies in full dress and as it is generally brilliantly 
illuminated, the pleasant domestic scene adds greatly to the 
gay appearance of the streets, which fill with loungers in 
the cool of the evening. 

The handsomest street in Havana is the Cerro, a long 
thoroughfare running up a hill at the back of the town, bor- 
dered on either side by enormous old villas, in the midst of 


magnificent gardens. The finest of these mansions be- 
longs to the very old Hernandez family, and is built of 
white marble in the usual classical style. The adjacent 
villa, Santo Veneo has a lovely garden, and used to be 
famous for its collection of orchids, the late Countess de 
Santo Veneo, a very wealthy lady, being a great collector. 
She was a clever, agreeable woman, well-known in Paris 
where she usually spent the summer and autumn. In the 
midst of a perfect forest of cocoa-palms stands the former 
summer villa of the Bishops of Havana, now a private resi- 

Then, one after the other, follow the handsome dwellings 
of the Havanese Sangre Azul, of the Marquese dos Her- 
manos, of the Conde Penalver, of the Marqueza de Rio 
Palma, etc. The cacti in these villa gardens are of amazing 
size and shape, some showing leaves thick enough to bear 
the weight of a full grown man. Unfortunately, these 
Havana Edens are infested all the year round by swarms 
of mosquitos. The residents seem skin proof, and do not 
appear to suffer from the insects' attacks. But woe waits 
on the unwary newcomer who tempts fate by lingering in 
these lovely gardens ! 

Although an eminently Catholic city, Havana cannot be 
said to be rich in churches. A goodly number have been 
destroyed during the various rebellions, especially those of 
the middle of the century, when the religious orders were 
suppressed. The largest church is the Mercede, a fine 
building in the rococo style with handsome marble altars and 
some good pictures. It is crowded on Sundays and holidays 


by the fashionable world of the place, the young men form- 
ing up in rows outside the church as soon as Mass is over, 
to gaze at the senoritas and their chaperons. 

The Cathedral is the chief architectural monument of in- 
terest in Havana. It was erected for the Jesuits in 1704, 
and was converted into a Cathedral in the course of the 
Nineteenth Century. It is built in the usual Hispano- 
American style with a big dome and two stumpy towers on 
either side of the centre. Internally the effect is rather 
heavy, owing to the dark colour of the marbles which cover 
the walls, but compared with most churches in these lati- 
tudes, the edifice is in exceptionally good taste, with a re- 
markable absence of the tawdry images and wonderful col- 
lections of trumpery, artificial flowers and glass shades, 
which, as a rule, disfigure South American churches. The 
choir would be considered handsome even in Rome, and the 
stalls are beautifully carved in mahogany. Almost all the 
columns in the church are also mahogany, highly polished, 
producing the effect of a deep red marble, most striking 
when relieved, as in this case, by gilt bronze capitals. In 
the choir is the tomb of Columbus. The great navigator 
died, as most of my readers will doubtless be aware, at 
Valladolid, in Spain, on Ascension Day, 1506, and his body 
was at first deposited, after the most pompous obsequies, in 
the Church of San Francisco, in that city. 

In 1513, the remains were conveyed to the Carthusian 
monastery of La Quabas, at Seville, where Ferdinand and 
Isabella erected a monument over them, bearing the simple 
but appropriate inscription : 


" A Castile y Leon 
Nuevo Mundo Dlo Colon." 

Twenty-three years later, the body of Columbus, with 
that of his son Diego, was removed to the island of San 
Domingo or Hayti, and interred in the principal church of 
the capital ; but when that island was ceded to the French, 
the Spaniards claimed the ashes of the Discoverer, and they 
were carried to Havana and solemnly interred in the Cathe- 
dral, on the 1 5th January, 1796. The remains, which, by 
this time, it seems, were scanty enough, were placed in a 
small urn, deposited in a niche in the left wall of the 
chancel, and sealed up with a marble slab, surmounted by 
an excellent bust of the bold explorer, wreathed with 
laurel. The inscription, a very poor one, excited consider- 
able ridicule, and a pasquinade was circulated, lamenting 
the absence of the nine Muses on the occasion of its com- 

Of late years, however, the inhabitants of San Domingo 
have set up a protest in favour of certain bones which have 
been discovered in their own Cathedral, and declare by their 
gods or by their saints, that never a bone of Columbus left 
their island, and that the relics of the great Christopher in 
the Cathedral of Havana, unto which so many pilgrimages 
have been made, are as apocryphal as were those of certain 
saints mentioned by the learned Erasmus. 

Of the other numerous Havanese churches there is not 
much to be said, except that nearly all have remarkable 
ceilings, decorated in a sort of mosaic work in rare woods, 
often very artistic in design. Columns of mahogany are 


frequently seen, and nearly all the churches are lined with 
very old Spanish or Dutch tiles. The Church of Santa 
Clara, attached to a very large nunnery, is a favourite place 
of devotion with the fashionable ladies, who squat on a 
piece of carpet in front of the Madonna, with their negro 
attendant kneeling a few feet behind them. When the 
lady has performed her devotions, the sable footman takes 
up her carpet, and follows her out of the church, walking 
solemnly a few feet behind her. In the Church of the 
Mercede, there is a very curious picture representing a 
group of Indians being slaughtered by a number of 
Spaniards. In the centre is a wooden cross, upon the 
transverse portions of which Our Lady is seated, holding the 
infant Jesus in her arms. In the corner is a long inscrip- 
tion of some historical importance. It runs thus : 

" The Admiral, Don Christopher Columbus and the 
Spanish Army, being possessed of the c Cerro de la Vaga,' 
a place in the Spanish island, erected on it a cross, on whose 
right arm, the 2d of May, 1492, in the night, there ap- 
peared, with her most precious Son, the Virgin, Our Lady 
of Mercy. The Indians, who occupied the island, as soon as 
they saw Her, drew their arrows and fired at Her, but, as the 
arrows could not pierce the sacred wood, the Spaniards took 
courage, and, falling upon the said Indians, killed a great 
number of them. And the person who saw this wonderful 
prodigy was the V. P. F. Juan." 

The Jesuits have an important college for boys in 
Havana. Annexed to it is an observatory, said to be the 
best organized in South America. The church is hand 


some, and over the high altar hangs a famous Holy Family 
by Ribera. In connection with this college, there is also 
a museum and library, especially rich in drawings and 
prints, illustrating Cuban life and scenery, from the Six- 
teenth Century down to our own times. 

The Tacon opera-house, which can accommodate 5,000 
persons, is, in its way, a very fine theatre, built in the 
Italian fashion, with tiers of boxes, one above another. 
They are separated by gilded lattices, so as to afford every 
possible means of ventilation. Round each tier of boxes 
is a sort of ambulatory or verandah, overlooking the great 
Square. The upper gallery is exclusively devoted to the 
coloured people, who, on a Sunday, fi'l it to suffocation. 
They are considered the most critical part of the audience, 
and their appreciation or disproval is generally well founded 
and liberally demonstrated. The first two rows of boxes 
belong to the aristocracy and wealthy merchants, and the 
display of jewelry on a gala night used to be quite amaz- 
ing. The lower part of the house is divided into a pit and 
orchestra-stalls. When crowded the Tacon presents a 
really fine appearance. The stage is, I should say, as large 
as that at Covent Garden and the operas are perfectly 
mounted and staged. 

According to the best authorities, Diego Velasquez, the 
Conqueror of Cuba, founded the famous city of San Chris- 
tobal de la Habana in 1508, and being immensely impressed 
by the width and depth of the harbour, and its generally 
favourable position for trade purposes, he called it la Have 
del Nuevo Mondo, the key to the New World. So far he 


was right, and until quite recently Havana stood forth 
among the richest cities in Southern America. The early 
history of Cuba, like that of all the West Indian Islands, 
consists of a series of attacks by Spanish, English, French 
and Dutch buccaneers and privateers. In 1528, these ad- 
venturers burnt the new city to the ground, but, Phoenix- 
like, it soon rose above its ashes, and was eventually pro- 
tected by a chain of fortifications of sufficient importance 
to resist a siege by the Dutch in 1628. From 1762 until 
February, 1763, the English, under Sir George Pickock, 
held the place. It was finally restored to the Spaniards ; 
and the evacuation, on July loth of the same year, was cele- 
brated with great rejoicing ; Britain being, at that date, dis- 
tinctly unpopular in Cuba. In 1768, France having ceded 
Louisiana to Spain, Don Antonio Alloa sailed for New 
Orleans, to take possession in the name of Their Catholic 
Majesties. He was so ill received as to be obliged to return 
forthwith to Havana, where Marshal O'Reilly, an Irish 
exile, organized an expedition to Louisiana, and seized the 
capital, which was not held for very long. In 1802, 
Havana was partly burnt to the ground and some ten 
thousand persons were left homeless. Under the Gov- 
ernorship of the celebrated Tacon, Havana soon resumed 
its foremost position, and was almost entirely rebuilt in 
stone and masonry, whereas, hitherto, most of the houses 
had been of wood thatched with straw. If you ask, " Who 
built that fine edifice ? " the answer is invariably " Tacon." 
u Yon theatre ? " " Tacon." It is literally a case of " Ta- 


con qui) Tacon su e Tacon giu." He is the benevolent 
Figaro of the place. The wonders which he performed 
in a short time prove clearly that when the island is ener- 
getically governed, it flourishes marvellously. 



CITIES, like men, and because they are the work of 
men, have each, necessarily, marked features of in- 
dividuality, and these will be found to illustrate in some 
degree, the characteristics of the people by whom they have 
been founded, and by whom they are maintained. All of 
our American cities may thus be distinguished, each having 
its local atmosphere and aspect. Charleston is confessedly 
one of the favourite cities of the South, if not of the 
Union, and is commended to our regards by a thousand 
special considerations. She has been distinguished by her 
early and active share in our Revolution in the formation 
of the Confederacy and the Constitution in the noble con- 
tributions of intellect and valour which she has made to the 
common capital of the country in her generous sacrifices 
at all times in the common cause by the refinements of 
her society by the polish of her people the general pro- 
priety of her tastes her lofty morals and warm hospitality. 
Founded under peculiar circumstances, at a juncture of 
marked transition in European affairs, under the direct 
patronage of the most eminent among the British nobility, 
and subsequently taken under the immediate protection 
of the Crown, the colony of South Carolina of which 
Charleston was at that period the very soul was always 
a much favoured province of the mother country. The 



richness and value of her products furnished substantial 
reasons why she should be a favourite. Her merchants 
were mostly British; her native sons of family were sent 
to Britain for education ; and the affinities between the 
parent state and the colony were thus rendered doubly 
tenacious, making the struggle of the Revolution a much 
severer one in this than in any other colony of the whole 

The Palmetto City is happily placed within two spacious 
rivers, the Cooper and Ashley the Etiwan and Keawah 
of the Red Men. These unite to form the harbour, which 
is ample and attractive to the eye, in high degree, forming 
a beautiful ensemble^ not less sweet than spacious. As you 
enter from the sea, between the Islands of Sullivan and 
Morris, the city opens before you in the foreground, five 
miles distant rising, like another Venice from the ocean. 
It is built, like Venice, upon flats and shoals of sand and 
mud. So low is the land, that the illusion that it is built 
directly in the sea, continues till you approach quite near 
it. This illusion is productive of a picturesque effect, but 
not sufficient to compensate you for the relief which would 
be yielded by an elevated background, or by lofty eminences 
of land on either side. As you advance, the bay expands, 
wide and majestic, forming a harbourage to which there 
can be no objection, were it not for the embarrassments of 
the bar at the entrance, which forbids the admission of 
ships of very heavy draught of water. In front of you, 
commanding the channel is Fort Sumter, a formidable pile 
of fortress, with double tier of heavy cannon rising upon a 


mole at the head of a sand-bar. In passing Sullivan's 
Island the eye readily distinguishes the famous fortress 
which bears the name of Moultrie, distinguished in Amer- 
ican history as the scene of one of the first and best fought 
battles of the Revolution, when a few hundred native rifle- 
men, who had never fired a cannon before, beat off and 
nearly destroyed a formidable British fleet, making such 
slaughter among them as, in proportion to the numbers 
engaged, was not even reached by that of Trafalgar and the 
Nile. On the right you see Haddrill's Mount Pleasant 
village which also constituted one of the fortresses of '76. 
On the left are the shores of James and Morris Islands, the 
latter bearing the light-house of the port ; the former the 
site of old Fort Johnson, which was wrested from the 
British, prior to the battle of Fort Moultrie by the enter- 
prise of a small body of citizen soldiery. Here at the very 
portals of the city, you encounter Castle Pinckney, cover- 
ing an ancient mud reef; and here we propose to give you 
a bird's eye view of the city itself the Palmetto City. 
You see the tout ensemble at a glance, and perceive its two 
most prominent characteristics the verandahs, balconies, 
piazzas, with the ample gardens and their foliage, which 
isolate every dwelling-house, and form a substitute for 
public squares, in which Charleston is lamentably deficient. 
But for the largeness of the several lots and the taste of the 
people for shade trees, the deficiency would be fatal at once 
to the health and beauty of the place. 

On the southeast corner of Broad and Meeting Street is 
an antique of the old Colonial period, the sight of which 


always rouses the pride of the Palmetto citizen. This is 
St. Michael's Church (Episcopalian), a fine old fabric, and 
one of the best specimens of the British architectural talent 
of its day, at least as this was exhibited in its American 

This fine church was first opened for worship in 1761. 
Its tower is supposed to be one of the noblest ornaments of 
the city. The proportions are good ; the effect is graceful 
and imposing. The extreme elevation is 168 feet ; no great 
elevation, perhaps, except in a city so little above the sea as 
Charleston. It is here even now overtopped by others. 
But it is not a mere spire. It is a series of ornamented 
chambers, gradually rising from each other; and involves 
dimensions of greater bulk and weight than any other of the 
city towers, St. Philip's alone excepted. The church of 
St. Michael's seems to be deficient in relation with the 
tower, and the effect is not good. It is too squat for the 
steeple. The extreme length of the body of the church is 
130 feet, its width 60. As a whole the structure is in good 
taste, simple and proper; while this steeple, from its propor- 
tions, and an air of grace and lightness, which lessens 
greatly your idea of its bulk and weight, is in the highest de- 
gree pleasing and impressive. 

This tower constituted, until a comparatively recent 
period, the great landmark of the city from the sea. It 
was the chief, or only beacon in the period of the Revolu- 
tion, and was painted black when the assailing British fleet 
was anticipated, in order to prevent their use of it as a guide 
to the harbour. But this was a mistake. Black against a 


light-blue sky was a more certain landmark than white. It 
has a very musical chime of eight bells, none sweeter in the 
country. In the humid climate of Charleston the bells 
acquire a rare sweetness of tone, and those of St. Michael's 
are especially musical. Of these bells there is a curious 
history. They were taken down and sent, as a portion of 
the spolia opima of the captured city, to London for sale. 
They were bought by London merchants, and restored by 
them to the church, whether as a gift or by purchase we 
are not able to say. 1 

1 In 1872, Mrs. Petigru Carson writes in Appleton's Journal : " When 
the British took Charleston in 1780, they stabled their horses in the 
church, and, unhanging the bells, sent them off to London, where they 
were dumped on the Tower Wharf. At last the vestry of St. Michael's 
received a letter bidding them expect their bells by a certain ship sailing 
from London. The people went in procession to bring up from the ship 
their beloved bells, which they had never hoped to listen to again, and 
with prayers and thanksgivings they were replaced in the church tower. 
The pious benefactor never made himself known, but he was supposed to 
have been some British officer who had been at the taking of Charleston. 
For seventy years did those bells regulate the social life of the city. For, 
not only did they call to worship, and celebrate all occasions of public 
joy and sorrow, but nightly they rang a curfew which ruled everybody's 
movements. It was intended to warn the negroes home at nine o'clock 
in winter, ten in summer ; after that hour they might not go into the 
streets without a written pass. All visitors were expected to take leave at 
bell- ring. 

" Then Sherman's army passed through leaving its track as of light- 
ning. A party of half-drunken soldiers, out for a lark and for plunder, 
were accosted by a negro who offered to show them the bells which had 
rung in secession. ' Never,' said the men, ' shall they play that tune 
again ! ' and they smashed them into a hundred pieces." The rector and 
congregation despite their poverty consequent on the war wrote to one 
Mr. C. R. Prioleau of London to inquire the cost of a new set. 

" There was no record at Charleston of where the bells came from. 
But Mr. Prioleau searched the directory for the oldest founders of the city, 
and went from one to the other, until at Meares & Co., Whitechapel, Lon- 


During the Civil War the bells of St. Michael's were 
sent to Columbia to be cast into cannon, but General 
Beauregard pronounced them unfit for the purpose and had 
them preserved in the capital with other relics of value. 

don, a firm which had been in existence three hundred years, he found, 
by patient examination, the record of bells cast for St. Michael's Church, 
Charleston, S. C., in 1759. The proportions of the metal and sizes of the 
bells were all entered in the books; and the present Meares engaged to 
turn out a new set which, when hung, should make the Charlestonians 
themselves think they heard the veritable old bells. But Mr. Prioleau 
was not content with this ; he wrote back to have all the fragments that 
could be found sent out and this was done. Meanwhile, Meares found 
still in their service an old man of seventy-six, who had been apprentice 
under the very foreman who, more than a hundred years before, had cast 
those bells ; and he, stimulated by Prioleau's generosity, never rested till 
he brought to light the very original moulds for the castings. Into them 
the new metal was melted with careful distribution of the broken frag- 
ments, so as to make the illusion a reality. All that was wanting to 
make up the cast, Mr. Prioleau added, and the reward of his perseverance 
and generosity was to send to the vestry these new bells, which are the 
very old ones still. Again did the congregation with tears and thanks- 
giving receive the bells from this their fifth voyage across the Atlantic, 
and hung them up in St. Michael's steeple." E. S. 


IN the quiet little town of Alexandria, whose large and 
grass-grown cobble-stones are rarely disturbed by ve- 
hicles or pedestrians, there are many old houses of dis- 
tinguished, if somewhat decayed, appearance. They date 
from the period when the town, known as Belle Haven, 
had every prospect of becoming an important centre of 
trade and society. It was a mart for the famous " Oronoko 
tobacco " and a warehouse for this commodity established 
about 1720 brought prosperity to the settlement on the 
Potomac, whose name was soon changed to honour James 
Alexander, the Earl of Stirling. Many ships docked in the 
harbour to land merchandise, soldiers, sailors, officers and 
distinguished foreigners on diplomatic missions ; and from 
the Royal George, the northern mail coach left every day 
connecting Alexandria with the world. In this period of 
prosperity, many handsome houses were built and furnished 
with every comfort and luxury known to this country. 

Among the typical examples of domestic architecture of 
Colonial days is one that amply repays a visit, not merely 
on account of its historical associations, but because it is 
one of the best specimens of Eighteenth Century architecture 
existing in this country. 

Completely hidden by a modern hotel of unprepossess- 
ing appearance, few tourists who pause on their way from 



Washington to Mount Vernon to see the town that 
Washington visited so frequently, are aware of its exist- 

Passing through the hotel into the back court, the visitor 
is suddenly confronted by this noble old house, now de- 
serted and forlorn, with no hints of its days of gaiety and 
splendour. The house is extremely large and of fine pro- 
portions, and when surrounded by its trees and gardens 
must have presented an appearance of great dignity and 
charm. Architects, however, delight even more in the 
interior decorations, the beautifully carved chimney-pieces, 
doors and other woodwork and the fine stairway. When 
this house was built by Major John Carlyle in 1752, it 
was considered one of the three handsomest homes in the 
vicinity, the others being Mount Vernon, the home of the 
Washingtons, and Belvoir, the home of the Fairfaxes. 

One curious feature of the Carlyle House is that it is 
built upon an old fort, whose massive grass-grown walls are 
still to be seen, as well as the subterranean passage that 
leads from the house through the fort to the Potomac. 

The following description by a nameless writer describes 
the house as it was about forty years ago : 

" It is built of cut stone, quite large, being about fifty 
feet square, the doors and windows ornamented with carved 
caps. A massive porch is built on the west front and the 
east is occupied by a long verandah. A wide hall runs en- 
tirely through the house, in each story, and opening into 
them are spacious rooms. These, as well as the hall on 
the first story, are wainscoted to the ceiling and ornamented 


with carved wood, after the style of the period in which the 
house was built. 

" Formerly, fine grounds surrounded the house ; on the east 
side a garden extended to the river, which, at that time, was 
about three hundred yards distant. This inlet has long been 
filled in, and its site is now occupied by streets and build- 
ings. A broad walk, bordered on either side with trees and 
shrubs extended from the house to the river. Being con- 
siderably above the grade of the surrounding streets, the 
garden was entirely cut away except a small portion near 
the house, which was walled in. The garden on the west 
front extended from the mansion to the street and fronted 
directly on the public square, which at that time was oc- 
cupied by the town jail and pillory. In the garden were a 
number of tall Lombardy poplars, and at each corner a 
lodge was built, which was used as servants' quarters. 
These have all been removed and their site is occupied by a 
large building. This prevents a front view of the mansion, 
except from the interior point of the hotel." 

Another excellent description by Alexander Cameron, 
in the New England Magazine for 1902, reads as follows: 

" The most imposing residence the town possessed was, 
of course, the one John S. Carlyle had erected in 1752, 
constructed of Portland stone, shipped from the Isle of 
Wight in exchange for the famous Oronoko tobacco. The 
house was well situated, in the rear the lawn sloped down 
to the Potomac and on the portico one could sit and watch 
the vessels from over the seas glide into the haven that 
ever appeared most beautiful, and in front like watchful 


sentinels, a double row of Lombardy poplars kept guard 
over the stately home, where hospitality was offered with a 
lavish hand and where good cheer and kindliness were ever 
to be found. The woodwork of the interior of the house 
is regarded as the best specimen of Colonial style ; the win- 
dows, doorways, mantels, the primitive cupboards, the heavy 
carved frieze, even the chairboard are all in exquisite taste. 
Here in the great drawing-room of gold and white, Wash- 
ington was often to be seen, taking part in the minuet and 
one could catch a glimpse of the dainty room in blue and 
white across the hall. But there was another side to all 
this brightness and gaiety, as the dungeons of the house 
could testify, where in times of attack by the Indians, the 
household sought protection, or by means of the subter- 
ranean passage, as at Mount Vernon, an escape was offered 
by way of the Potomac and the happy youths in powdered 
wigs, beruffled shirts, knee breeches, and silk hose, who 
could step with so light a heart in the dance, could also 
draw their swords and fight for the protection of their homes 
and for the honour of their King." 

The French and Indians were a menace to the prosperity 
of Alexandria ; those living without the town found it diffi- 
cult to bring their produce to market without fearing an at- 
tack; therefore in 1754 Washington, then but twenty -two, 
led a small company of Alexandria soldiers against the 
enemy. This was unsuccessful and Washington was com- 
pelled to surrender. In the following year, England took 
extreme measures. 

It was the period when England and Fiance were con- 


tending for power on this continent. France, with her 
allies, the Indians, held the Lakes and many strong forts in 
the interior, while England held the Atlantic seaboard 
peopled by loyal colonists. The English ministry having 
decided to attack the French on the Lakes and in Ohio, 
despatched General Braddock to Virginia in 1755, with in- 
structions to proceed to Fort Duquesne, the site of the 
present city of Pittsburg. 

On his arrival in Alexandria, General Braddock became 
the guest of Major Carlyle, while doubtless the soldiers 
were put up at the Royal George. 

We can imagine that the entertainment offered to the 
gallant, gay and eccentric General by a wealthy colonist did 
not shame the famed Virginia hospitality ; and that when 
the Governors of New York, Massachusetts, Maryland, 
Virginia, Pennsylvania and North Carolina arrived, there 
were dances, dinners, cards, toasts and wines, and scenes of 
gaiety, as well as the discussion of vital questions. A Con- 
ference of six Governors and noted army officers was not 
an every day occurrence, and the old house held a very 
brilliant gathering. 

The Conference ended and the plan of action determined 
upon, Braddock and his little company of red-coated 
soldiers, set out from Alexandria. 

They took the road across the mountains, still a wilder- 
ness, although the Indian no longer lurks behind the trees 
and rocks. Here the traveller is shown various paths called 
" Braddock's Road," and springs and stones called " Brad- 
dock's Well " and " Braddock's Stone," all of which are 


associated, or supposed to be associated, with the memorable 
Braddock's Defeat." 

Braddock's story is very well told by John Esten Cooke, 
who writes : " He went from Williamsburg to Alexandria 
to consult with the governors of the more prominent colo- 
nies j and one morning there appeared at his headquarters 
a young gentleman of some reputation as a soldier Colonel 
George Washington of Mount Vernon. As Washington 
had already smelled gunpowder and knew the wilderness, 
Braddock gave him a position on his staff, and informally 
consulted with him, but exhibited ill-conditioned disdain 
when the young ' buckskin ' hinted that ' regulars ' would 
not accomplish much in the woods when matched against 
Indians firing from behind the trees. The idea that British 
regular troops would not sweep such hornets from their path, 
struck Braddock evidently in the light of an exquisite ab- 
surdity ; and, paying no attention to Washington's warn- 
ings, he hurried forward his preparations, set out for the 
frontier, passing through Frederick City, Maryland, and 
Winchester, Virginia, and entered Fort Cumberland, where 
his troops were to rendezvous amid a thundering salute of 
thirteen cannon, the drums beating the c Grenadier's March ' 
as he flashed by in his chariot, his staff galloping beside it. 
So went upon his way the brave and unlucky Englishman 
who was not destined to return. . . . 

" The tragic sequel of the drama we need not describe. 
Braddock had acted like the brave man he was in the battle 
and defeat that ensued, and, seeing all things crumbling 
around him, seemed anxious to die. He rode into the 


hottest of the fire, a conspicuous figure in his splendid 
uniform shouting orders, storming at the troops, waving 
his sword exposing himself recklessly in every part of 
the field. Five horses had been killed under him. As one 
fell, he seized and mounted a fresh one. At last his fate 
came. A bullet traversed his right arm and buried itself in 
his lungs. He fell was caught by Captain Stewart of the 
Virginia light-horse, and there was scarcely time to hurry 
him off the fateful field, when the English troops broke 
on all sides and retreated in wild disorder, pursued by the 
French and Indians. 

"The shattered army were now in full flight across the 
Monongahelaj and then they hastened back through the 
wilderness, scarcely pausing before they reached Fort Cum- 
berland. Tradition relates that Braddock was so painfully 
wounded that he could not be carried off even in a spring 
vehicle, and was swung at full length in a large silken sash 
which he had worn, the extremities of which were affixed 
to two horses moving abreast. This sash is said to be still 
in existence. He could be carried no further than the 
Great Meadows, where he died on the night of July I3th, 
Washington reading the funeral service over his body, 
which was there interred. Savages lurked around all was 
done in silence. Not even a volley was fired in honour of 
the brave soldier who had come to this wilderness to find a 

The report to the home government gave the Colonial 
soldiers their due. It read: "The Virginia officers and 
troops behaved like men and died like soldiers." Wash- 


ington was the only officer who survied. He wrote : " I 
had four bullets through my coat, and two horses shot 
under me, yet escaped unhurt although death was levelling 
my companions on every side of me." 

On his return, Washington entered into all the gaieties 
of Alexandria, balls and dances at the Carlyle House, balls 
and dances at the Royal George, and balls and dances at the 
tavern called Gadsby's. He notes in his Diary of 1760 the 
description of a ball in Alexandria, ending : " We lodged 
at Col. Carlyle's." 

During the Civil War, this old house was used as head- 
quarters for the medical directors of the hospitals in the 



THIS venerable edifice, which excites so much patriotic 
veneration from the American people and is regarded 
with profound esteem abroad, was known until the year 
1776 as the State House. From that memorable period 
when the representatives of the nation resolved to be free 
the room on the east side of the main entrance has been 
designated by the appellation of Independence Hall. For 
wise and patriotic reasons it has never been altered. By 
that designation it will remain hallowed to all time. So 
long as a single genuine spark of freedom remains in the 
human heart, so long will Independence Hall be regarded 
as the birthplace of liberty the immortal spot where the 
manacles of oppression were sundered and despotism re- 
ceived its most formidable rebuke. The State House, 
originally constructed for the purpose of accommodating 
legal business, the dispensation of Colonial statutes for 
Pennsylvania, and the transaction of various other matters, 
was commenced in the year 1729 and completed in 1734. 
Its dimensions and architectural plan the design being 
furnished by an amateur architect, named John Kearsley, 
Sr., were regarded by many as too large and expensive; 
and the erection of the building was, therefore, quite strenu- 
ously opposed. Had the men who first conceived the 


noble enterprise of building it foreseen the exalted character 
which their contemplated edifice would assume in future, 
there would not probably have been a single dissenting 
voice in the liberal plan projected by its founders. It is a 
singular historical fact, that most of those who opposed the 
plan of the edifice in the commencement and who were 
still living at the time, were opposed to the adoption of the 
" Declaration of Independence," which occurred within its 
very walls about a quarter of a century afterwards. Ac- 
cording to bills and papers kept by Andrew Hamilton, one 
of the three Commissioners who had the superintendence 
of the financial matters connected with its construction, it 
appears that the edifice cost originally $16,250. The two 
wings which now form important addenda to the building, 
however, were not erected until the years 1739-40, and 
increased the total amount to $28,000 but their cost can- 
not be counted in the original bill. 

Watson in his dnnals says : " Edmund Woolley did the 
carpenter work, John Harrison the joiner work, Thomas 
Boude was the brick mason, William Holland did the mar- 
ble work, Thomas Kerr, plaster, Benjamin Fairman and 
James Stoopes made the bricks ; the lime was from the 
kilns of the Tysons. [These kilns were situated in Man- 
ship Township, Montgomery County, about one mile west 
from Willow Grove and fifteen miles from the Hall of In- 
dependence.] The glass and lead cost 170 and the glazing 
in leaden frames was done by Thomas Godfrey, the cele- 
brated. I may here usefully add, for the sake of comparison, 
the costs of sundry items, to wit : carpenter's work at 4*. 


per day; boy's, is. ; master carpenter, E. Woolley, 45. 
6d. ; brick-laying by Thomas Boude, John Palmer and 
Thomas Redman, at ioj. 6d. per M.; stone work in the 
foundation at 4*. per perch ; digging ground and carting 
away, 9^. per yard ; bricks, 31X0 8^ per M.j lime per 100 
bushels, 4. ; boards, 2Os. per M. ; lath-wood, i8.f. per cord ; 
laths, 3*. per C.; shingles, 2Os . per M. ; scantling, i^d. 
per foot ; stone, 3*. per perch, and 5*. $d. per load. La- 
bourers receive 2s. bd. per dayj 2,100 loads of earth are 
hauled away at yd. per load." These items are only given 
as specimens of curiosity, and will serve to amuse, if not to 

The woodwork of the steeple by which the building was 
first surmounted, on examination in 1774, was found to be 
so much decayed, that it was decided to remove it, and it 
was accordingly taken down, leaving only a small belfry to 
cover the bell for the use of the town-clock, which had 
but one dial face, at the west end of the building. In 
that condition it remained until 1829, when the steeple 
which now crowns the building, was erected on the plan 
of the original one. Some years ago the interior wood- 
work to the room in which the " Declaration of Inde- 
pendence " was signed was removed for the purpose of 
modernizing the plans, but public sentiment soon demanded 
its restoration, and it now presents the same appearance it 
did on that memorable occasion. In 1854, the City Coun- 
cils of Philadelphia very patriotically resolved to place in this 
sacred room where they properly belong all the relics as- 
sociated with the brilliant history of the Hall and the times 


cotemporaneous with the American Revolution, which 
they could obtain. With commendable zeal and enterprise 
they have obtained and arranged in their appropriate places 
portraits of nearly all the distinguished " Signers of the 
Declaration of Independence," as well as many other valu- 
able relics, all of which are sacred mementoes uniting the 
present and the past with ligaments of inseverable affection. 

" When the regular sessions of the Assembly were held 
in the State House," says Watson, " the Senate occupied 
upstairs and the Lower House the same chamber since 
called Independence Hall. In the former, Anthony Morris 
is remembered as Speaker, occupying an elevated chair fac- 
ing north himself a man of amiable mien, contemplative 
aspect, dressed in a suit of drab cloth, flaxen hair slightly 
powdered, and his eyes fronted with spectacles. The 
Representative Chamber had George Latimer for Speaker, 
seated with his face to the west, a well-formed manly 
person, his fair large front and eyes sublime declared abso- 
lute rule." 

For many years previous to 1855, the upper apartment 
of Independence Hall was divided into rooms which were 
occupied by the Supreme Courts of the United States, and 
was rented for offices of various kinds. 

Grave and deliberate as were the general purposes, dur- 
ing the early period of the Revolution, to which the 
" State House " was appropriated in the Colonial days of 
Pennsylvania, it was on several occasions used as a hall for 
banqueting. In the long gallery, upstairs, the feasting 
tables were spread, around which hilarity and mirthfulness 


prevailed, while the tables themselves were loaded with 
every desirable luxury which the appetite or inclination 
might fancy or desire. Soon after the edifice was com- 
pleted, in 1736, William Allen, Esq., then Mayor of 
Philadelphia, made a feast at his own expense. This enter- 
tainment, which was of a sumptuous and costly character, 
was spread in the " State House," and the Mayor extended 
his invitations to all distinguished strangers in the city. 
The number of invited guests exceeded any at the feasts 
given in the city on previous occasions, while those who 
partook of his hospitality expressed their unanimous consent 
that, " for excellency of fare, it was a most elegant enter- 
tainment." On the arrival of their new Colonial Gover- 
nor, Denny, in 1756, while the Assembly was in session, 
that body gave him a reception dinner, and this feast was 
likewise spread at the " State House," at which the " civil 
and military officers and clergy of the city " were present. 
This entertainment occurred in August, and was an im- 
portant event during that session of the Assembly. It had 
a tendency to harmonize various antagonistical personal 
feelings, which were looked upon as boding no peculiar 
good to the new administration. Again, when Lord 
Loudon, commander-in-chief of the King's forces in the 
several colonies, visited the city in the year 1757, the cor- 
poration received him at the " State House " by a great ban- 
quet. General Forbes, who was then commander at 
Philadelphia and of the southern settlements, was also pres- 
ent on that occasion. Various guests were invited, among 
whom were officers of rank, gentlemen strangers, clergy 


and private citizens, who partook of those municipal hos- 
pitalities. It was remarked by some uninvited guests at the 
time, that the expenditure for this entertainment was greater 
than had ever before been made by the authorities for pub- 
lic receptions, which indicated a very early hospitality to 
such feasts especially when given at the expense of the 
public treasury. When in 1774, the first Congress met in 
Philadelphia, a sumptuous collation was prepared by the 
gentlemen of the city, for the entertainment of its repre- 
sentatives, the " State House " was selected as the building 
in which the festive ceremonies should be performed. The 
members and invited guests congregated first at the City 
Tavern, 1 and thence marched in an imposing procession to 
the " State House," in the dining-hall of which the repast 
was spread. About five hundred persons partook of the 
dinner, and when the toasts were given they were rendered 
patriotic by the " firing of cannon and martial music." 
These festive occasions exerted salutary influence upon 
public sentiment, and had a tendency to develop, in no 
small degree, political feelings which actuated the people. 
No doubt the principles promulgated and advocated around 
the brimful goblet and board, were regarded in a patriotic or 
disloyal sense, according to the dominant characteristics of 
leading men, with their adherence to Parliamentary laws, or 
Republican sympathy. 

Notwithstanding the fact that Independence Hall is re- 
garded as a most sacred shrine of Liberty, in days of yore 

1 The City Tavern stood on the site of the " Coffee House," and was a 
distinguished eating restaurant. 


it was used for various purposes some of which illy com- 
ported with the true character of the building. Mr. Watson 
says: "For many years the public papers of the Colony > 
and afterwards of the City and State, were kept in the east 
and west wings of the State House, without any fire- 
proof security as they now possess. From their mani- 
fest insecurity, it was deemed, about the year 1809, to 
pull down those former two-story brick wings and to 
supply their places by those which are now there. In 
former times such important papers as rest with the 
Prothonotaries were kept in their offices at their family 
residences." When workmen were superintending the re- 
moval of the former wings of the "State House," Mr. 
Grove, who was the master mason, made several interesting 
discoveries of relics. These were mostly found under the 
foundations of the walls, as the workmen excavated the 
ground considerably deeper for the present cellars. At the 
depth of some five feet, and close to the western wall, was 
dug up a keg of Indian flints. Nothing appears upon rec- 
ord to give the faintest idea as to who performed the deed, 
or for what purpose they were buried there. The impres- 
sion of the keg was distinct, but the wood had decayed and 
become assimilated with the loamy soil. At about the same 
depth, and in close proximity to it, were uncovered the com- 
plete equipments of a sergeant, consisting of a musket, car- 
touche-box, sword, buckles,'etc. " The wood being decayed 
left the impression of what they had been." These dis- 
coveries excited considerable curiosity, and attracted a large 
multitude of people to see and examine them. But a 


greater and more general excitement was created, a day or 
two subsequently, at the announcement that a lot of bomb- 
shells, filled with powder, had been exhumed by the diggers. 
This circumstance led to various conjectures, relative to the 
object for which they had been buried beneath the building, 
but a satisfactory solution of the mystery has not, as yet, 
been given. Some entertained the belief that it was in- 
tended for another Guy Fawkes plot, to destroy the edifice on 
a particular occasion. Most probably, however, they had 
been placed there for safe keeping, or to prevent their fall- 
ing into unfriendly hands. Subsequently, when the present 
foundation was built two of these bombs were walled in 
with the stones and now form a portion of the stonework. 

We have remarked that Independence Hall was used for 
various purposes. In the year 1802, the Legislature of 
Pennsylvania granted to Charles Wilson Peale the use 
of the upper rooms in which the public banquets were 
formerly given for the exhibition of curiosities which he 
had collected and arranged under the title of the Philadelphia 

As a place of literary entertainment, Independence Hall 
assumes a conspicuous reputation. In 1771, the Rev. Jacob 
Duche, assistant minister of Christ Church and St. Peter's, 
Philadelphia, wrote as follows : " The 4 State House,' as 
it is called, is a large plain building, two stories high. The 
lower story is divided into two large rooms, in one of which 
the Provincial Assembly meet and in the other the Supreme 
Court of Judicature is held. The upper story consists of a 
long gallery, which is generally used for public entertain- 


ments, and two rooms adjoining it, one of which is appro- 
priated for the Governor and his Council ; the other, I 
believe, is yet unoccupied. In one of the wings, which 
join the main building by means of a brick arcade, is de- 
posited a valuable collection of books, belonging to a num- 
ber of the citizens, who are incorporated by the name of 
'The Library Company of Philadelphia? You would be as- 
tonished, my Lord, at the general taste for books which 
prevails among all orders and ranks of people in this city. 
The librarian assured me that, for one person of distinction 
and fortune, there were twenty tradesmen that frequented 
this library." The Library Company of Philadelphia, to 
which the above reverend writer so sneeringly alludes (and 
who, during the Revolutionary struggle for Independence, 
turned Tory to the cause of Freedom), was first started 
by Benjamin Franklin in 1731, and was called ''The City 
Library" in consequence of a union which was made on 
the first of July of that year, of several libraries. In 
October, 1732, their first importation of books from Eng- 
land arrived, amounting in cost to ,45 15*., sterling. The 
Library was located in Pewter-platter Alley, but in 1740 it 
was transferred to the State House. Thence in 1773 it 
was placed in the Carpenters' Hall, where it remained 
until the year 1790. It received its incorporation in 1742, 
under the title of the " Library Company of Philadelphia." 
In 1792, this Company, the Loganian and the Union, were 
merged into one, making a tria juncta in una* 

During the progress of the struggle for Freedom, the 
State House was signalized for many scenes which trans- 


pired within it, and was, at one time, used as a hospital for 
wounded soldiers. A " lobby " extended the whole length 
of the building, then eastward from the head of the stairs, 
and in this "lobby" the American officers who were cap- 
tured at the Battle of Germantown were retained as pris- 
oners. It was used as a hospital after the Battle of the 
Brandywine, where many a noble patriot breathed his last. 
Such were some of the sad purposes for which this sacred 
structure has been used. This building is also rendered 
immortal from the fact that here Washington " bade fare- 
well to public life, and delivered that memorable address 
which will ever be cherished as a sacred legacy by his 
grateful countrymen." In 1824, Lafayette received his 
friends in Independence Hall. It has been subsequently 
used as the audience-chamber of several distinguished visi- 
tors, and a reception room for the Presidents of the United 
States. The body of the venerable John Adams here lay 
in state on its way to his final resting-place. 

After the completion of the State House in 1734, meas- 
ures were set on foot to secure means and funds sufficient 
to place in the dome a bell appropriate for the building. 
As they had already supplied a great public necessity by 
placing a clock in the west end not in the steeple, as 
Harper's Magazine represents it many influential citizens 
opposed the measure, on the ground of extravagance, argu- 
ing that the " great cost of the State House had imposed a 
heavy tax upon the citizens, and further expenditure was 
useless." The better judgment of the people, howeve^ 
after several years prevailed, and it was decided to have a 


bell. But another great and discouraging difficulty met the 
speedy accomplishment of their purposes. There had been 
but little moulding and casting effected in the Colonies, in 
consequence of the home government monopolizing almost 
exclusively every department of manufacturing, thereby 
subjecting their subjects in the New World to depend 
upon the mills, looms and furnaces of England for a supply 
of such articles as Parliament might think proper for them 
to have. It became necessary, therefore, to submit to the 
inconvenience, trouble and delay, of sending to London for 
a bell. This was done. The size, peculiar shape, weight, 1 
motto and thickness, were accurately mentioned, as direc- 
tions for casting it, and the order was sent in the latter 
part of the year 1750. About a year would elapse before 
they could reasonably expect the bell to reach this country. 
It came at last in 1752, and before it was landed from the 
ship, hundreds of citizens repaired to the vessel to examine 
it and congratulate the city on its safe arrival. 

The tone was clear, distinct and forcible, well calculated 
to inspire feelings of pride in those enterprising citizens, 
who had been chiefly instrumental in procuring it. But 
their high anticipations were doomed to meet a sad disap- 
pointment. A day or two after its arrival, while removing 
it from the vessel to the place for which it was intended, 
it met with an accident by which its tones were rendered 
discordant, the beauty of its appearance mutilated and its 
uses almost destroyed. In fact, the bell had to be recast, 

1 The weight of the bell was 2,030 pounds. 


and it was decided that an experiment should be made in 
the city. 

Accordingly the task was assigned to Messrs. Pass & 
Stow, who were to perform the operation under the super- 
intendence of Isaac Norris, Esq., Speaker of the Colonial 
Assembly. To that gentleman is ascribed the honour of 
having originally suggested the motto " Proclaim Liberty 
throughout the land and to all the inhabitants thereof," 
which the bell contains, and which proved so prophetic of 
its future use. In regard to the new bell cast by Messrs. 
Pass & Stow, Mr. Norris remarked that " they have made 
a good bell, which pleases me much that we should first 
venture upon and succeed in the greatest bell, for aught I 
know, in English America surpassing, too, the imported 
one, which was too high and brittle." No doubt such 
were the facts, especially in reference to the last part of 
Mr. Norris's remarks, and in that respect, also, the bell 
was significantly emblematical. Efforts were made to re- 
store the bell to its original sound by boring holes into it, 
but the attempt proved unavailing. 

Such is the brief history of the origin of the " Old State 
House Bell " ; and it is to be regretted that no more defi- 
nite reminiscences connected with it have been preserved. 
During the struggle for that Independence and Freedom 
which was proclaimed by this bell, while the British threat- 
ened to take and occupy Philadelphia, this bell, together 
with that belonging to Christ Church, was taken down, 
and conveyed to the river, near Trenton, where they were 
buried in the water in order to prevent them from falling 


into the hands of their enemies. In this condition they re- 
mained from 1777 to the close of the American Revolution, 
when they were brought back to the city and placed in 
their former situations. 



A CLEAR, unclouded atmosphere at an elevation of 
8,000 feet above the level of the sea in the tropics 
puts everything couleur de rose. There is no heat, no cold ; the 
average temperature is about 60, and the atmosphere is so 
clear that when you see the mountains at the ends of the 
streets they appear close at hand, instead of being from 
twenty to forty miles distant. 

All the houses in the city have a gay appearance ; such 
as are not white or light yellow or green are tinted with 
various shades of red, and many of the churches may be 
pronounced pink ; three or four hundred yards of a street 
in pink has a pretty effect, especially if continued in pale 
green ; a house in grey stone adjoining another faced with 
blue encaustic tiles is, to say the least, pleasing to the eye 
of any one who for months past has only gazed upon 
dwellings of dull red brick. As you get into the outskirts 
of the city, the houses are meaner, but many of them are 
festooned with flowers and wreaths, so the appearance of 
beauty is maintained, even if on close inspection it is found 

One of the three principal rides out of the city is the 
Paseo de la Reforma, three miles in length, leading to the 
Castle of Chapultepec ; here the gay world disports itself 


from seven to nine in the morning on horseback, and from 
six to seven in the evening in carriages; but it is deserted 
during Lent for the Paseo de la Viga, where three or four 
military bands discourse excellent music. 

The principal ride is to the Castle of Chapultepec, and 
as it is the first ride every visitor is sure to take, he .will be 
interested to learn that the building on the summit of the 
porphyry rock, visible from all parts of the valley, stands 
on the site of the Palace of Montezuma j l it is known as 
the Hill of the Grasshopper in old Aztec charts, and is 
always drawn on their hieroglyphics as a mound, with a 
grasshopper as large as the mound itself on the top of it. 

Nothing remains of the grandeur which marked the 
place in Montezuma's time except the avenues of enormous 
Cyprus trees (Cupressus distica) beneath whose shades were 
the gardens where he loved to wander, even after his be- 
loved capital had fallen into the rude hands of the invading 

I measured the girth of several of these trees, and found 
three or four of the largest to vary from thirty-five to forty 
feet above the ground. Their height was proportionately 
grand, 100 to 120 feet and the trees are well shaped. Long 
festoons of a greyish Spanish moss hang from their branches ; 

1 Humboldt says that the hill of Chapultepec was chosen by the young 
Viceroy Galvez as the site of a villa (Chateau de Plaisance) for himself 
and his successors. The castle has been finished externally, but the apart 
ments are not yet furnished. The building cost the king 62,000. The 
Court of Madrid disapproved of the expense, but, as usual, after it was 
laid out. The plan of this edifice is very singular. The common opinion 
at Mexico is that the house of the viceroy at Chapultepec is a disguised 


this moss is supposed to add to the beauty of the groves^ but 
It gives me an idea of decay. 

In Prescott's fourth book there is a graphic account of 
Montezuma's town and country palaces of barbaric splen- 
dour j his armouries, his granaries, his strange collection of 
human monsters and dwarfs, his menageries and the aviary, 
which alone required three hundred attendants ; the royal 
household is described, and in proof of the luxury of the 
royal table, it is mentioned that there were runners stationed 
every twenty miles the whole distance from Vera Cruz to 
Mexico, that the red mullets might be placed fresh and 
sweet upon his table; it is said that the runners brought up 
these delicacies from the coast in quicker time than the 
present railway can accomplish. No one can doubt the 
truth of the description of his magnificence who has beheld 
the trees that are still standing along the avenues of what 
was once his royal garden. From the terrace in front of 
his palace, he saw the snow-capped mountains Popocatepetl 
and Ixtaccihuatl and the City of Mexico, entirely sur- 
rounded by the waters of Lake Texcoco, glittering at his 
feet ; the Pinion de los Banos, Pinion del Marques, Santa 
Catharina and San Nicholas, all small craters or volcanic 
cones ; and to the right the hill called Estrella, on which 
the sacred fire was always burning, until the 26th of 
December, every fifty-second year. 

At these intervals, the fire of every temple and house 
was extinguished, and the people abandoning themselves to 
despair, tore their garments and destroyed their furniture, 
a<? their priests taught them it was probable that the world 


would be destroyed. The ceremony was terrible j a noble 
victim was sacrificed, and it was not till after midnight, 
when the constellation Pleiades had passed the zenith, that 
the priests announced that the world was again saved. 
The sacred fire kindled by the friction of sticks placed in 
the wounded breast of the victim was conveyed to the altar, 
when the blaze of the funeral pyre announced the glad 
tidings of joy to the countless multitudes looking on from 
every part of the valley ; these thereupon gave themselves 
up to transports of delight, and kept the Carnival or national 
jubilee, which lasted twelve or thirteen days. New fire 
was then carried by fleet runners from the altar of Estrella 
to every part of the kingdom. 

There is an idea of stability in the Scriptural phrase 
"everlasting hills." The "everlasting hills " are before 
me; the aspect of the valley has been changed. Lake 
Texcoco has been withdrawn a mile or two from the city ; 
the domes and spires of the city are different from the 
Teocalli and Palace of Montezuma; and the Palace of 
Chapultepec, in front of which I am standing, has been 
rebuilt several times by Spanish Viceroys. The present 
building was erected so lately as 1785; it is a kind of gilt 
pagoda on a castellated battlement, and the rooms were 
decorated by Maximilian, its last occupant, with coarse 
Pompeiian arabesques. These are changes, but Popocate- 
petl and Ixtaccihuatl rear their snow-capped heads as they 
did before man counted time. 

At the back of the Castle, looking over the large cypress- 
trees on the pleasaunce below, is seen the high ground on 


which the Battle of Molino del Key (the King's mill) was 
fought in August, 1847, between the American army under 
General Scott and the Mexican army under General Santa 
Anna. The large flour mill and other buildings bear marks 
of shot and shell, and the centre of the battlefield is in- 
dicated by a square marble pedestal, on which are inscribed 
the names of the Mexican officers who fell on the field. 

This was the last battle of the war which arose out of the 
secession of the territory of Texas from Mexico in order to 
become one of the North American States. General Scott 
being victorious over the Mexicans, the treaty of peace 
known as the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo was ratified 
in the early part of 1848, by which the Americans obtained 
the territories of Texas, New Mexico, and upper California. 
Arizona was subsequently bought from Santa Anna by the 
Treaty of Messilla for $10,000,000, 



THE approach to this city, the capital of the Dominion 
of Canada, is by no means imposing ; the face of 
the river is covered and its mouth filled with sawdust ; it is 
stifled, and has scarcely strength to flow, it could not burst 
into a smile, or ripple, under the most tempting of summer 
suns. Immense booms of timber which have been floated 
down from the " forest primeval " hundreds of miles away, 
float still on the river surface till they are hauled up to feed 
the hungry mills, mechanical giants, whose rasping jaws 
work day and night crushing these sturdy " sons of the 
forest," cutting them in slices and casting them forth to be 
stacked in huge piles along the river-banks miles before we 
reach the town. There is no bustle or confusion on our 
arrival there. On the quiet little landing-stage two or three 
lumbering vehicles are waiting; we are escorted to one of 
these by our chivalrous captain, who carries our hand bag- 
gage and superintends the removal of the rest. 

Our first day in Ottawa was spent in visiting the Parlia- 
ment buildings, which occupy a plateau of about thirty 
acres on the loftiest point of the city, and nearly two hun- 
dred feet above the Ottawa River; they are surrounded by 
beautifully laid out gardens, and seem to be growing out of 
a bed of soft greensward of velvet smoothness. They are 
composed of cream-coloured Potsdam stone, the ornamenta/ 


part being of Ohio and Arupois marble ; they are built 
in the Italian-Gothic style of the Thirteenth Century, and 
I am told they are the most beautiful specimens thereof in 
all America, perhaps in the world. Their elevated posi- 
tion, with their long lines of pointed windows, massive 
buttresses, and numerous pinnacles and towers, silhouetted 
against the bright blue sky, are objects of imposing and 
majestic beauty for miles around. In the front centre stands 
Victoria Tower, one hundred and eighty feet high, and sur- 
mounted by an iron crown. The chief entrance to the 
building is through the broad -pointed arches beneath this 
tower ; the royal arms are above the doorway ; in the grand 
Senate Hall, there is a very beautiful statue of the Queen 
and the vice-regal throne is flanked by busts of the Prince of 
Wales and the Princess Alexandra. 

In the most remote, as well as in the most populous dis- 
tricts, the features of the royal family are duly represented. 
The Canadians are the most loyal of British subjects ; they 
lower their voices with solemn reverence when they speak 
of " Her Majesty the Queen," to whom they never refer as 
" the Queen," pure and simple ; they give her a whole 
string of titles and adjectives, like the tail of a paper kite, 
and set her sailing in the heaven of their imagination, as 
though she were beyond the range of humanity altogether. 

Much has been said, much has been written on the sub- 
ject of Canada ; we have learned its geographical position, 
the length and breadth of its lakes and rivers, the extent of 
its vast forest lands, the height of its mountains, etc., but 
the figures dazzle the mind, and bring no realization of the 


fact. Nothing less than a personal visit will enable us to 
comprehend the wonders of this luxuriant land, which is 
surrounded and encompassed with its own loveliness. The 
primeval forest still holds its own in the vast solitudes, 
sacred as yet from the increasing encroachments of man, 
its immense inland seas and fruitful rivers winding through 
scenery the most picturesque, the most sublime ; to say 
nothing of its vast unexplored lands and mineral resources, 
and the wide tracts of rich uncultivated country, watered 
by springs and rivulets which have been flowing in their 
living liquid beauty since the days of Paradise. 

We had heard much of the extremes of temperature, of 
heat and cold, especially in Ottawa, and prepared ourselves 
for broiling ; well, it was warm, the sun blazed, the hot 
winds blew, and the dust of this most dusty city whirled 
and swirled around us, got into our eyes, our ears, crept in- 
sidiously down our throats, and seemed struggling to turn 
us inside out; but we clutched our mantles around us, and 
butted against the wind, screening ourselves from the sun's 
fierce rays as best we could. It is not often that the sun 
and wind have such a tussle together. However, we 
reached home at last in an uncooked state, feeling not much 
warmer than we should do on a summer day at home, 
though the temperature is much higher and the hours are 
marching to the tune of 90 in the shade. 

We had spent the whole day in wandering and driving 
about the streets of Ottawa, till we gained a very good 
idea of its external appearance. It has numerous fine 
churches, and its town hall, post office and all the municipal 


buildings are substantially and massively built in an attract- 
ive and fanciful style of architecture. As for the rest of 
the city, it is in a perfectly unfinished state ; it is as yet only 
a thing of promise, though it has the making of a very fine 
town in the future j but however fast it marches, it will 
have to keep growing, and work hard too for another cen- 
tury at least, before it reaches the level of its magnificent 
Parliament buildings. The streets are wide and long, 
stretching away out of sight ; they are cobble-stoned and 
roughly wood-paved for the most part. After passing the 
principal lines of shops in Sparkes Street, the houses seem 
to have been built for temporary convenience only, and 
crop up here and there in a direct line, leaving wide spaces 
of waste land between, as though they were in a hurry to 
see which should reach the end of the long street first, the 
end that seems to be creeping back to the primeval forest, 
which civilization and time have left far behind. 

Ottawa itself is neither picturesque nor attractive, being 
built on perfectly flat ground. It looks like a timber yard 
and smells of sawdust. The Ottawa River has as many 
long thin arms as an octopus, and they run meandering in- 
land by a hundred different ways ; here they meet in a vast 
tumbling mass, falling over huge boulders and broken stony 
ground till they are dignified by the name of the " Chaudiere 
Falls " ; lower down their headlong course is stopped, and 
they are utilized and made to turn a huge sawmill where a 
thousand steel teeth are biting through the grand old trees, 
tearing them into chips, digesting and disgorging them on 
the other side ; in vain the water foams and groans, crashing 


its rebellious waves together man is its master and will 
have his way. 

Rideau Hall, the home of our Princess, lies on the out- 
skirts of the town, and is by no means a regal-looking man- 
sion ; it is a long low building of gray stone, standing on 
rather elevated ground, and has a pleasant view of the town 
and river from the lawn and flower garden, which encloses 
two sides of it ; the approach is through tolerably well tim- 
bered grounds, not of sufficient importance to be called a 
" park." The Governor and Princess Louise were away, 
and the house was undergoing repair it looked as though 
it needed it. There was nothing to distinguish this from 
any second or third-rate country house at home, except the 
one solitary and rather seedy looking sentinel who paraded 
before the door. The people of Ottawa speak most en- 
thusiastically of our Princess; every one has some kind 
memory or pleasant anecdote to tell of her. It is said that 
when Her Royal Highness held her first reception, she ap- 
peared in a plain high dress, expecting, perhaps, to find 
fashion "out of joint" in this far-away place; but the 
Canadian ladies came trooping " en grand toilette," with 
fans and diamonds, trains and laces, like living importations 
from Worth himself. At the next reception matters 
changed, and the royal lady appeared in all the splendour of 
the British Court. 



EVERY patriotic American who visits Washington 
makes a pious pilgrimage to the home and tomb 
of the Father of his Country. There are two ways of 
reaching Mount Vernon, one by trolley and one by river. 
The road passes through a flat, uninteresting and some- 
what desolate country ; and a loud-voiced cicerone indicates 
the points of interest on the way. The journey is usually 
broken either going or returning at Alexandria, a quaint, 
old, sleepy, dilapidated, little town. Visitors stroll through 
its grass-grown streets, marvel at its rotting wharf, drop in 
at the Carlyle House, where the ill-fated Braddock made 
his headquarters ; and then take a look at old Christ Church 
where Washington worshipped. 

The pleasantest and most picturesque route, however, is 
by river. A delightful sail down the Potomac for about an 
hour brings one to the landing-stage at the foot of the 
grounds. The approach to the house is very fine. Mount 
Vernon stands on a wooded eminence commanding a beau- 
tiful view of the reaches of the river and the opposite 
shores. From the river, the house with its broad pillared 
colonnade has an impressive air. 

The estate of Mount Vernon in Washington's day was 
an extensive one of two thousand broad acres. Its owner 
was very fond and prouq 1 of it. He himself wrpte : " No 


estate in United America is more pleasantly situated. In a 
high and healthy country, in a latitude between the ex- 
tremes of heat and cold, on one of the finest rivers in the 
world, a river well stocked with various kinds of fish at all 
seasons of the year, and in the spring with shad, herring, 
bass, carp, sturgeon, etc., in great abundance. The borders 
of the estate are washed by more than ten miles of tide- 
water: several valuable fisheries appertain to it. The 
whole shore in fact, is one vast fishery." Washington was 
also proud of his trees. To increase their numbers and 
varieties was the constant occupation of his home life. 
Every season of the year found him providing for them. 
The grounds still owe much of their charm to his care. 
They glisten and bloom with shade trees, evergreens, 
flowering shrubs and fruit trees : box, holly, tulip, poplar, 
sweet-gum, sassafras, dogwood, oak, mulberry, aspen, ash, 
locust and fringe-tree are plentiful, the deciduous trees in 
this list being natives of Fairfax County. Washington's 
diary shows his interest in forestry and gardening. He 
notes when the white-thorn is in berry, when he clears the 
undergrowth of a clump of pines, when he plants hemlock 
and sows holly berries, when he plants acorns and buckeye 
nuts brought from the battleground of Monongahela, and 
horse-chestnuts from his old home in Westmoreland. 

Mount Vernon was originally built by George's elder 
half-brother, Lawrence Washington, who laid out the 
grounds and named the place in honour of Admiral Ver- 
non, under whom he had seen distinguished service at the 
siege of Cartagena. When George came into possession 


soon after his generous brother's death in 1752, Mount 
Vernon was a modest and unpretending Virginia dwelling. 
The new owner improved and enlarged it on several occa- 
sions, and frequently added to the outbuildings. At some 
little distance from the driveway facing the east front, the 
road led through a patch of flowering shrubbery and passed 
between porters' lodges built of sun-dried bricks to the 
gateway familiar to every tourist. This approach opened 
to view a plain two-story house with peaked roof and 
cupola, and out-buildings connected with the main struc- 
ture by an open arcade, in the usual Virginia style. These 
covered ways are a great protection in cold or inclement 
weather to those bringing in hot food from the kitchen, 
which, here as elsewhere, is separate from the house. 

The only striking architectural feature of the building 
was the colonnade, a broad flagged piazza on the side 
facing the river, supporting by slender wooden columns the 
eaves of the roof, and affording a shady and cool retreat for 
family and visitors. The lawns slope away down to the 
river, and many a pleasant afternoon tea has been enjoyed 
under those columns. 

Leaving the landing-stage we take a short walk up the 
hill and reach the building where lie the mortal remains of 
the great liberator and first President of the United States. 
Considering the memories that cluster around it, the struc- 
ture is insignificant and unworthy. It is more like an ordi- 
nary spring-house than a mausoleum, and when we remem- 
ber what has been expended on Grant's tomb and others 
whose memory the nation delights to honour, we cannot 


help marvelling at the sordid simplicity of Washington's 
last resting-place. The graves of many members of the 
family lie around it; and in the vault at the back of the 
mausoleum are the remains of many more. Who they 
were, however, we have no means of ascertaining because 
there are no records or tablets to assist us. For more than 
half a century, this tomb suffered from worse than neglect, 
for the pious pilgrims and the ordinary curiosity hunters 
who visited the tomb of the Father of his Country carried 
away as mementos chips of masonry, pebbles, flowers, ferns, 
twigs, branches of trees and bushes, and generally devas- 
tated the place. These depredations have now ceased, 
however; and the tomb is now protected by lock and key 
against vandalism. 

The work of protection and preservation is now in the 
hands of the Mount Vernon Ladies Association of the 
Union which was the first patriotic organization of women 
in the United States. It was started in 1853, and received 
a charter from the Virginia legislature in 1856. After long 
correspondence Mr. John Augustine Washington consented 
to surrender the mausoleum, house and 200 acres of grounds 
for $200,000. The money was soon raised and Mount 
Vernon now belongs to Virginia, and is under the charge of 
regents appointed one for each state of the Union. These 
in turn are under a president. The regents meet at Mount 
Vernon every year. The house and grounds are under the 
direct charge of a resident superintendent, who is as cour- 
teous and obliging as he is an able administrator. Many 
of the rooms are under the special patronage of separate 


states, and there is in consequence a good deal of competi- 
tion among the regents to supply furniture of Washington's 
day, when it is not possible to recover genuine Wash- 
ington relics. It has been said that Washington snuff- 
boxes are as plentiful as Mayflower furniture ; but now 
every precaution is taken against labelling anything that is 
not undeniably authentic. 

The house has two important fronts, presenting one to the 
river and another to the beautiful sweep of turf between it 
and the road. The gardens, with their greenhouses and 
thick box hedges, are beautiful at all seasons of the year. 

Mount Vernon is by no means a palatial mansion : per- 
haps the visitor's first feeling is one of disappointment. 
The hall with its winding staircase is roomy enough, but 
the rooms the bedrooms especially are undeniably small. 
However the house is cosy enough, and was ample for the 
needs of Washington and his small family. 

By donation and purchase, the regents have managed 
to collect quite a respectable number of George Washing- 
ton's personal belongings. There is the great carpet spe- 
cially manufactured for him and presented by Louis XVI. ; 
then we note his parlour mirror, bookcase, travelling trunk, 
dressing-table, shaving glass and various wearing apparel, 
besides many chairs, tables, beds and Miss Custis's harpsi- 
chord. Before the ladies took charge, the furniture, panel- 
ling, etc., suffered terribly from the depredations of con- 
scienceless relic-hunters, but now it is protected from 
goths and vandals by gates. 

Mount Vernon during Washington's lifetime was fur- 


nished with comfort and elegance. It may be interesting 
to the reader to go through some of the rooms with the 
guidance of the inventory taken after George Washington's 

The rooms then were not named as they are now, but 
they can be readily identified. The " New Room" was 
evidently used as a dining-room, since it was furnished with 
two dining-tables, two sideboards, on which stood six ma- 
hogany knife-cases, China images and a China flower pot, 
twenty-seven mahogany chairs, two large looking-glasses, 
two candle-stands, two fire-screens, two stools, two elegant 
lustres, two silver-plated lamps and six China jars on the 
mantelpiece. The hearth was supplied with andirons, 
dogs, shovel, tongs and bellows ; the floor was covered 
with a good mat; the windows were draped with valuable 
curtains ; and pictures worth nearly a thousand dollars 
adorned the walls. 

The "Front Parlour" contained an expensive sofa, eleven 
mahogany chairs, a tea-table, a rich looking-glass, three 
lamps, two of which had mirrors, five China flower-pots t 
chimney furniture, a handsome carpet and window curtains. 
Many pictures hung on the walls. 

The " Little Parlour " was furnished with a settee, tea- 
table, ten Windsor chairs, looking-glass, fender and hearth 
furniture, carpet, window curtains and pictures. 

In the " Study " we find a bureau, a tambour secretary, 
a walnut table, two pine writing-tables, writing-desk and 
apparatus, circular chair, armchair, dressing-table, oval 
looking-glass, eleven spy-glasses, a case of surveying 


instruments, a globe, two brass candlesticks, seven swords 
and blades, four canes, seven guns, 45 Ibs. of silver plate 
valued at $900, other plate worth $424, and many other 
articles. This was evidently the General's sanctum, where 
he attended to his correspondence and other business. 

When the number of guests did not require the use of 
the " New Room," the family gathered in the " Dining 
Room." Here were two dining tables and a tea-table, a 
mahogany sideboard, two knife cases and a large spirits 
case, ten mahogany chairs, a carpet, hearth furniture, 
window curtains and pictures. 

The " Bedroom " contained a bed, bedstead and mattress, 
looking-glass, small table, four walnut chairs, window 
curtains and blinds, a carpet, andirons, etc., and one large 

All along the staircase were hung a great number of 
prints, and a looking-glass was in the passage on the second 
floor. In the lower " Passage " were fourteen mahogany 
chairs, a spy-glass, a thermometer and pictures. The 
" Closet " contained a fire-screen and a machine to scrape 
shoes on. There were thirty Windsor chairs on the 
Piazza : ample provision surely for callers ! 

The walls of the " Front Room " were decorated with 
prints. It was cosy with window curtains, fireplace and 
carpet. The rest of the furniture comprised a bed and 
bedstead with curtains, a dressing table, a large looking- 
glass, a wash-basin and pitcher and six mahogany chairs. 

The " Second Room " was similarly furnished, except 
for the chairs, of which there were only five, including an 


armchair. A portrait of General Lafayette hung on one 
wall, he having occupied this room. 

The "Third Room" was furnished exactly like the 
" Front Room " except for a chest of drawers in addition. 
Prints ornamented the walls here also. 

The " Fourth Room " contained bed, bedstead and 
curtains, carpet and window curtains, andirons, prints, five 
mahogany chairs, pine dressing table and large looking-glass, 
a close chair, wash-basin and pitcher. 

The u Small Room " was furnished with bed, bedstead, 
dressing table, dressing-glass, washstand and three Windsor 

The " Room which Mrs. Washington now keeps " was 
almost as desolate as her short widowhood. She seldom 
left it during the short time she survived her husband. 
It contained only a bed, bedstead and mattress, table, 
three chairs, oval looking-glass, carpet, fender and and- 
irons. This is quite bare in comparison with " Mrs. 
Washington's Old Room," which contained a bed, bed- 
stead and curtains, a glass, dressing table, writing-table and 
writing chair, an easy chair, two mahogany chairs, a chest 
of drawers, a clock, carpet, window curtains, fender, and- 
irons and pictures. 

The kitchen, still in its old condition, was thoroughly 
equipped for the hospitality demanded of the master of 
Mount Vernon. 

The total value of the furniture was nearly $3,500 ; that 
of the 139 chairs alone was $658 ; and of the pictures and 
prints, $2,000, 



BETWEEN two tall gateposts of rough-hewn stone 
(the gate itself having fallen from its hinges at some 
unknown epoch), we beheld the grey front of the old 
parsonage terminating the vista of an avenue of black ash- 
trees. It was now a twelvemonth since the funeral proces- 
sion of the venerable clergyman, its last inhabitant had 
turned from that gateway towards the village burying 
ground. The wheel-track leading to the door, as well as 
the whole breadth of the avenue, was almost overgrown 
with grass, affording dainty mouthfuls to two or three 
vagrant cows and an old white horse who had his own 
living to pick up along the roadside. The glimmering 
shadows that lay half asleep between the door of the house 
and the public highway were a kind of spiritual medium, 
seen through which the edifice had not quite the aspect of 
belonging to the material world. Certainly it had little in 
common with those ordinary abodes which stand so immi- 
nent upon the road that every passer-by can thrust his 
head, as it were, into the domestic circle. From these 
quiet windows the figures of passing travellers looked too 
remote and dim to disturb the sense of privacy. In its 
near retirement and accessible seclusion it was the very 
spot for the residence of a clergyman a man not estranged 
from human life, yet enveloped in the midst of it with a 


veil woven of intermingled gloom and brightness. It was 
worthy to have been one of the time-honoured parsonages 
of England, in which, through many generations, a suc- 
cession of holy occupants pass from youth to age, and be- 
queath each an inheritance of sanctity to pervade the house 
and hover over it as with an atmosphere. 

Nor, in truth, had the Old Manse ever been profaned by 
a lay occupant until that memorable summer afternoon 
when I entered it as my home. A priest had built it ; a 
priest had succeeded to it ; other priestly men from time to 
time had dwelt in it ; and children born in its chambers had 
grown up to assume the priestly character. It was awful 
to recollect how many sermons must have been written 
there. The latest inhabitant alone he by whose transla- 
tion to paradise the dwelling was left vacant had penned 
nearly three thousand discourses, besides the better, if not 
the greater number that gushed living from his lips. How 
often, no doubt, had he paced to and fro along the avenue, 
attuning his meditations to the sighs and gentle murmurs, 
and deep and solemn peals of the wind among the lofty tops 
of the trees ! In that variety of natural utterances he could 
find something accordant with every passage of his sermon, 
were it of tenderness or reverential fear. The boughs over 
my head seemed shadowy with solemn thoughts as well as 
with rustling leaves. I took shame to myself for having 
been so long a writer of idle stories, and ventured to hope 
that wisdom would descend upon me with the falling leaves 
of the avenue, and that 1 should light upon an intellectual 
treasure in the Old Manse well worth those hoards of long- 


hidden gold which people seek for ir moss-grown houses. 
Profound treatises of morality ; a layman's unprofessional 
and therefore unprejudiced views of religion ; histories 
(such as Bancroft might have written had he taken up his 
abode here as he once purposed), bright with picture gleam- 
ing over a depth of philosophic thought, these were the 
works that might fitly have flowed from such a retirement. 
In the humblest event, I resolved at least to achieve a novel 
that should evolve some deep lesson and should possess sub- 
stance enough to stand alone. 

In furtherance of my design, and as if to leave me no 
pretext for not fulfilling it, there was in the rear of the 
house the most delightful little nook of a study that ever 
afforded its snug seclusion to a scholar. It was here that 
Emerson wrote Nature ; for he was then an inhabitant 
of the Manse, and used to watch the Assyrian dawn and 
Paphian sunset and moonrise from the summit of our east- 
ern hill. When I first saw the room its walls were black- 
ened with the smoke of unnumbered years, and made still 
blacker by the grim prints of Puritan ministers that hung 
around. These worthies looked strangely like bad angels, 
or at least 1 ke men who had wrestled so continually and so 
sternly with the devil that somewhat of his sooty fierceness 
had been imparted to their own visages. They had all 
vanished now ; a cheerful coat of paint and golden-tinted 
paper-hangings lighted up the small apartment ; while the 
shadow of a willow-tree that swept against the overhanging 
eaves attempered the cheery western sunshine. In place 
of the grim prints there was the sweet and lovely head of 


one of Raphael's Madonnas and two pleasant little pictures 
of the Lake of Como. The only other decorations were a 
purple vase of flowers, always fresh, and a bronze one con- 
taining graceful ferns. My books (few, and by no means 
choice; for they were chiefly such waifs as chance had 
thrown in my way) stood in order about the room, seldom 
to be disturbed. 

The study had three windows, set with little, old-fash- 
ioned panes of glass, each with a crack across it. The two 
on the western side looked, or rather peeped, between the 
willow branches down into the orchard, with glimpses of 
the river through the trees. The third, facing northward, 
commanded a broader view of the river at a spot where its 
hitherto obscure waters gleam forth into the light of history. 
It was at this window that the clergyman who then dwelt 
in the Manse stood watching the outbreak of a long and 
ueadly struggle between two nations ; he saw the irregular 
array of his parishioners on the farther side of the river and 
the glittering line of the British on the hither bank. He 
awaited in an agony of suspense the rattle of the musketry. 
It came, and there needed but a gentle wind to sweep the 
battle smoke around this quiet house. 

I never grew quite acquainted with my habitation till a 
long spell of sulky rain had confined me beneath its roof. 
There could not be a more sombre aspect of external na- 
ture than as then seen from the windows of my study. The 
great willow-tree had caught and retained among its leaves 
a whole cataract of water, to be shaken down at intervals 
by the frequent gusts of wind. All day long, and for a 


week together, the rain was drip drip dripping and 
splash splash splashing from the eaves, and bubbling and 
foaming into the tubs beneath the spouts. The old un- 
painted shingles of the house and out-buildings were black 
with moisture ; and the mosses of ancient growth upon the 
walls looked green and fresh, as if they were the newest 
things and afterthought of Time. The usually mirrored 
surface of the river was blurred by an infinity of raindrops ; 
the whole landscape had a completely water-soaked appear- 
ance, conveying the impression that the earth was wet 
through like a sponge ; while the summit of a wooded hill, 
about a mile distant, was enveloped in a dense mist, where 
the demon of the tempest seemed to have his abiding-place 
and to be plotting still direr inclemencies. 

Happy the man who in a rainy day can betake himself 
to a huge garret, stored, like that of the Manse, with lum- 
ber that each generation has left behind it from a period be- 
fore the Revolution. Our garret was an arched hall, dimly 
illuminated through small and dusty windows; it was but a 
twilight at the best ; and there were nooks, or rather cav- 
erns, of deep obscurity, the secrets of which I never learned, 
being too reverent of their dust and cobwebs. The beams 
and rafters, roughly hewn and with strips of bark still on 
them, and the rude masonry of the chimneys, made the gar- 
ret look wild and uncivilized, an aspect unlike what was 
seen elsewhere in the quiet and decorous old house. But 
on one side there was a little whitewashed apartment which 
bore the traditionary title of the Saint's Chamber, because 
holy men in their youth had slept and studied and prayed 


there. With its elevated retirement, its one window, its 
small fireplace, and its closet, convenient for an oratory, it 
was the very spot where a young man might inspire him- 
self with solemn enthusiasm and cherish saintly dreams. 
The occupants, at various epochs, had left brief records and 
ejaculations inscribed upon the walls. There, too, hung a 
tattered and shrivelled roll of canvas, which on inspection 
proved to be the forcibly wrought picture of a clergyman 
in wig, band and gown, holding a Bible in his hand. As I 
turned his face towards the light he eyed me with an air 
of authority such as men of his profession seldom assume 
in our days. The original had been pastor of the parish 
more than a century ago, a friend of Whitefield, and almost 
his equal in fervid eloquence. I bowed before the effigy 
of the dignified divine, and felt as if I had now met face to 
face with the ghost by whom, as there was reason to appre- 
hend, the Manse was haunted. 

Houses of any antiquity in New England are so invari- 
ably possessed with spirits that the matter seems hardly 
worth alluding to. Our ghost used to heave deep sighs in 
a particular corner of the parlour, as if he were turning over 
a sermon in the long upper entry, where, nevertheless, he 
was invisible in spite of the brilliant moonshine that fell 
through the eastern window. Not improbably he wished 
me to edit and publish a selection from a chest full of manu- 
script discourses that stood in the garret. Once, while 
Milliard and other friends sat talking with us in the twilight, 
there came a rustling noise as of a minister's silk gown, 
sweeping through the very midst of the company so 


closely as almost to brush against the chairs. Still there 
was nothing visible. A yet stranger business was that of 
a ghostly servant maid, who used to be heard in the kitchen 
at deepest midnight, grinding coffee, cooking, ironing, 
performing, in short, all kinds of domestic labour, although 
no traces of anything accomplished could be detected the 
next morning. Some neglected duty of her servitude some 
ill-starched ministerial band disturbed the poor damsel in 
her grave and kept her at work without any wages. 

But to return from this digression. A part of my pred- 
ecessor's library was stored in the garret no unfit recep- 
tacle indeed for such dreary trash as comprised the greater 
number of volumes. The old books would have been 
worth nothing at an auction. In this venerable garret, how- 
ever, they possessed an interest, quite apart from their 
literary value, as heirlooms, many of which had been trans- 
mitted down through a series of consecrated hands from the 
days of the mighty Puritan divines. Autographs of famous 
names were to be seen in faded ink on some of their fly- 
leaves ; and there were marginal observations or interpolated 
pages closely covered with manuscript in illegible short- 
hand, perhaps concealing matter of profound truth and wis- 
dom. The world will never be the better for it. A few of 
the books were Latin folios, written by Catholic authors; 
others demolished Papistry, as with a sledge-hammer, .n 
plain English. A dissertation on the Book of Job which 
only Job himself could have had patience to read filled at 
least a score of small thickset quartos, at the rate of two or 
three volumes to a chapter. Then there was a vast folio 


body of divinity too corpulent a body, it might be feared, 
to comprehend the spiritual element of religion. Volumes 
of this form dated back two hundred years or more, and were 
generally bound in black leather, exhibiting precisely such 
an appearance as we should attribute to books of enchant- 
ment. Others equally antique were of a size proper to be 
carried in the large waistcoat pockets of old times, dimin- 
utive, but as black as their bulkier brethren, and abundantly 
infused with Greek and Latin quotations. These little old 
volumes impressed me as if they had been intended for very 
large ones, but had been unfortunately blighted at an early 
stage of their growth. The rain pattered upon the roof and 
the sky gloomed through the dusty garret windows, while I 
burrowed among these venerable books in search of any 
living thought which should burn like a coal of fire, or glow 
like an inextinguishable gem, beneath the dead trumpery that 
had long hidden it. 

By and by, in a little time, the outward world puts on a 
drear austerity. On some October morning there is a heavy 
hoar-frost on the grass and along the tops of the fences ; 
and at sunrise the leaves fall from the trees of our avenue 
without a breath of wind, quietly descending by their own 
weight. All summer long they have murmured like the 
noise of waters ; they have roared loudly while the branches 
were wrestling with the thunder gust; they have made 
music both glad and solemn ; they have attuned my thoughts 
by their quiet sound as I paced to and fro beneath the arch 
of intermingling boughs. Now they can only rustle under 
my feet. Henceforth the grey parsonage begins to assume 


a larger importance, and draws to its fireside, for the 
abomination of the air-tight stove is reserved till wintry 
weather, draws closer and closer to its fireside the vagrant 
impulses that had gone wandering about during the summer. 
When summer was dead and buried the Old Manse 
became as lonely as a hermitage. Not that ever 
in my time at least it had been thronged with com- 
pany ; but, at no rare intervals, we welcomed some 
friend out of the dusty glare and tumult of the world, 
and rejoiced to share with him the transparent ob- 
scurity that was floating over us. In one respect our pre- 
cincts were like the Enchanted Ground through which the 
pilgrim travelled on his way to the Celestial City ! The 
guests, each and all, felt a slumberous influence upon them ; 
they fell asleep in chairs, or took a more deliberate siesta on 
the sofa, or were seen stretched among the shadows of the 
orchard, looking up dreamily through the boughs. They 
could not have paid a more acceptable compliment to my 
abode, nor to my own qualities as a host. I held it as a 
proof that they left their cares behind them as they passed 
between the stone gateposts at the entrance of our avenue, 
and that the so powerful opiate was the abundance of peace 
and quiet within and all around us. Others could give them 
pleasure and amusement or instruction these could be 
picked up anywhere ; but it was for me to give them rest 
rest in a life of trouble. 1 

1 The Old Manse was built in 1765, for the Rev. William Emerson, 
and was owned subsequently by the Rev. Ezra Ripley, who married his 
widow. Hawthorne moved here in 1842. 



SINCE the last decade of the Seventeeth Century a 
dismantled church tower has stood on Jamestown 
Island in Virginia, a relic of the settlement which defined 
the destiny of our country and a remnant of the first Epis- 
copal church in America. Fire, the destruction of the ele- 
ments, and decay have removed all that was James' Fort 
save this remnant to liberty and religion. Only students of 
history knew this tower a year ago now it has been brought 
into the prominence it deserves. 

Having decided that the three hundredth anniversary of 
the real birth of the nation deserved adequate commemora- 
tion, the United States has invited all the world to share in 
a celebration to be held in 1907 on Hampton Roads and its 
shores an apotheosis of the small but determining village 
which was thirty miles distant and now is represented only 
by a mouldy tower. 

Speaking eloquently of the period which marked the in- 
ception of this historic building, former Governor of Vir- 
ginia, William E. Cameron said : " The vista of years 
which stretches backwards into the dim distance of the Six- 
teenth Century presents an imposing avenue of events and 
deeds. Momentous occurrences loom up as era markers 
in the country's progress some of which are spectacularly 



brilliant, and yet there is perhaps no event of all the long 
line which completely ranks with the first act in the coun- 
try's drama." 

At the farther end of the avenue one may see the ruined 
and dismantled tower of the Jamestown church, all that is 
left to mark the spot where sufferings were endured and 
deeds performed outranking the wildest imaginings of poet 
or romancer. 

Although the Jamestown tower is the pathetic ruin of 
Columbia's oldest church, it does not represent the earliest 
effort by English speaking people to plant Christianity in 
this part of the world. We read that in the year 1588, 
Sir Walter Raleigh gave 100 Pounds for the propagation of 
Christianity in Virginia, " the glorie of God, and the saving 
of the soules of the poor and blinded infidels." Yet it was 
not until 1607 that the first church was erected at James- 
town. Its humble beginning has been nowhere better de- 
scribed than by Captain John Smith in a pamphlet pub- 
lished in 1631, some years after his history of Virginia, in 
which he says : 

" When I first went to Virginia, I well remember, we 
did hang an awning (which is an old sail) to three or four 
trees, to shadow us from the sun ; our walls were rails of 
wood, our seats unhewed trees, till we cut planks, our pulpit 
a bar of wood nailed to two neighbouring trees ; in foul 
weather we shifted into an old rotten tent, for we had few 
better, and this came by way of adventure for new. This 
was our church till we built a homely thing like a barn, set 
upon crotchetts, covered with rafts, sedge and earth, so was 


also the walls. The best of our houses were of the like 
curiosity but the most part far much worse workmanship, 
that could neither well defend wind nor rain, yet we held 
daily Common Prayer morning and evening, every Sunday 
two sermons, and every three months the holy communion 
till our minister died, (the Rev. Mr. Hunt) but (after that) 
our prayers daily with a homily on Sundays, we continued 
two or three years after, till more preachers came." 

Captain Smith says further that the log church first 
erected was burned down the following winter with many 
other houses. Mr. Hunt lost all his books and everything 
else but the clothes on his back. This first Episcopal 
minister in the new world appears to have been a man of 
noble character and fine attainments. Although his suffer- 
ings were almost incredible, " yet none ever saw him re- 
pine ; upon any alarm he was as ready at defense as any, 
and till he could not speak he never ceased to his utmost 
to animate us constantly to persist, whose soul, question- 
less, is with God." 

Nor must we forget that the first legislative body in 
America, to which eleven boroughs sent burgesses, was 
opened in the Jamestown church with prayer by Mr. Bucke 
who succeeded Mr. Hunt. Laws were now superseded by 
others of a different character and the church of England 
more formally established than ever before. From Hening's 
statutes at large we learn that there was enacted by the 
General Assembly in 1623, I. That there shall be in every 
plantation where the people use to meete for the worship 
of God, a house or roome sequestered for that purpose and 


not to be for any temporal use whatsoever, and a place 
empaled in, sequestered only to the buryal of the dead. 

2. That whosoever shall absent himselfe from divine 
service any Sunday without an allowable excuse shall for- 
feit a pound of tobacco, and he that absenteth himselfe a 
month shall forfeit 50 pounds of tobacco. 

3. That there be an uniformity in our church as neere 
as may be to the cannons in England ; both in substance 
and circumstances, and that all persons yield readie obedi- 
ence unto them under paine of censure. 

The fourth statute refers to holidays and the fifth to a 
subject that has been often discussed, namely : that no 
minister be absent from his church above two months in 
all the yeare upon penalty of forfeiting halfe his means, 
and whosoever shall absent above fowre months in the year 
shall forfeit his whole means and cure. 

The sixth statute refers to slander and provides 

That whosoever shall disparage a minister without bring- 
ing sufficient proofe to justify his reports whereby the minds 
of his parishioners may be alienated from him, and his min- 
istry prove the less effectual by their prejudication, shall not 
only pay 500 Ib. weight of tobacco but also aske the minister 
so wronged forgiveness publicly in the congregation. 

In the Jamestown church of her period Pocahontas was 
doubtless baptized in the Christian faith, taking the name 
of Rebecca. Here, also the famous Indian girl was married 
to John Rolfe before proceeding to England where her too 
early death occurred. 

There is some conflict of opinion concerning the date of 


the erection of the church now represented by the pictur- 
esque tower of Jamestown. It has been affirmed that the 
ruined tower is what is left of the church that was destroyed 
in Bacon's rebellion in 1676. Bishop Meade of Virginia, 
who visited the ruins in 1856, gives the history of the suc- 
cession of the Jamestown churches as follows : The first 
as described by Captain Smith, was made of the awning 
or old sails, taken from vessels, and fastened to trees. The 
second was a very plain log building, which was burned 
down in the second or third year of the colony during the 
ministry of Mr. Hunt. The third was larger and better, 
probably of wood, built during the presidency of Captain 
Smith, repaired and adorned by Lord De la War when he 
arrived in 1611. The dimensions were twenty-four feet 
by sixty. The chancel or quo'tr was large enough to hold 
the Governor, the council and other officers of state. In 
this structure, doubtless, was held the first legislative ses- 
sion in 1619. Bishop Meade is of the opinion that this 
was the structure that was burned down during the Bacon 
rebellion. In opposition to the theory that the present are 
the ruins of the old church which was burned in the rebel- 
lion, he places the fact that the dimensions of the church 
which Smith built and Lord De la War repaired were 
different from the one whose ruins are now seen. The di- 
mensions of the former were twenty-four by sixty ; of the 
latter twenty-eight by fifty-six feet. He claims that other 
circumstances render it almost certain that another church 
had been built since the destruction of the one by Bacon. 
He points out the fact that in 1733 a silver font, still in 


existence was presented to it by two members of the 
Ambler family and adds that it surely would not have been 
presented to the ruins of a deserted church. He concludes, 
therefore, that the ruined tower which we now behold 
represents the remains of a church put up since the rebel- 
lion and his contention is certainly logical. Howe's out- 
line history of Virginia takes the ground that previous to 
1617, or ten years after the first settlement of Jamestown 
there were two churches destroyed. The tower now stand- 
ing may have belonged to the second church and survived 
its destruction. It could not have been part of the first, for 
that " cost no more than 50 Pounds " ; or it may have been 
the tower of a third. We can only surmise that the tower 
has been standing upwards of three hundred years. 

Bishop Meade has alluded to the fact that for several 
years after the death of Mr. Hunt the colony was without 
a minister. This is referred to in " A True Declaration of 
the Estate of the Colony in Virginia," etc,,, published by the 
council in England in 1610 as one of the causes which had 
provoked God to visit the plantation with those dire calam- 
ities that beset it at the time that Lord De la War was first 
sent out as Governor for life. 

An ardent task must have been that of the fiist ministers 
of the Jamestown church. A part of the religious services 
enjoined were as follows : On week days, early in the 
morning, the captain sent for tools, in the place of arms 
where " the sergeant-major, or captain of the watch, upon 
their knees made public and faithful prayers to Almighty 
God for his blessing and protection to attend them in their 


business for the whole day after succeeding." The men 
were divided into gangs who worked on alternate days. 
The gang for the day was then delivered to the maisters 
and overseers of the work appointed, who kept them at 
labour until nine or ten o'clock ; then, at the beat of the 
drum, they were marched to the church to hear divine serv- 
ice. After dinner, and rest till two or three o'clock, at the 
beat of the drum the captain drew them forth to the place 
of arms, to be thence taken to their work till five or six 
o'clock, when, at beat of drum, they were again marched 
to the church to evening prayer : they were then dismissed. 
The ruined graveya...., or "place impaled in, sequestered 
only to the buryal of the dead," at base of the Jamestown 
tower is not without interest. An inscription records the 
fact that " Here lyeth the body of the Rev. John Gough, late 
minister of this place, who departed this life, January 15, 
1683-4, and waits in hopes of a joyful reunion." There 
are tombstones and fragments of such, that record the 
deaths of Philip Ludwell and Sarah his wife, of Ursula 
Beverly, wife of Robert Beverly and daughter of William 
Byrd. There are likewise the tombs of Edward Jacque- 
line, Jacqueline Ambler, B. Harrison and Mrs. Edwards. 
There were in addition two tombs interestingly described 
by Bishop Meade as he saw them in 1856. They were 
those of Commissary Blair and Mrs. Blair. The tombs 
were placed side by side and were very heavy and strong. 
The platform, sides, and ends were of white freestone and 
the interior filled with bricks, well cemented. The top 
slab, on which the inscriptions were made, were of thick 


dark iron stone, or black marble. A sycamore-shoot 
sprung up between the graves and grew to be a large tree. 
In its growth it embraced, on one end and on the top the 
tomb of Mrs. Blair, one third of which lay embedded in the 
body of the tree and held immovable. All the interior, 
consisting of brick, and two of the side stones, had been 
entirely forced out of their places by the tree and lay scat- 
tered around while the dark iron-stone slab was held in the 
air three feet above the surface of the earth, fast bound by 
the embrace of the body of the tree into which it had sunk 
between one and two feet, the inscription being only par- 
tially legible. On the other side the whole tomb of Com- 
missary Blair had been forced away from its place by the 
roots and body of the tree and was broken to pieces in all 
its parts. 

Three hundred years have come and gone since the seed 
from which has grown English speaking America was 
planted on the spot where stands the old Jamestown tower. 

The page in our History relating to it is fraught with 
perennial interest. In picturesqueness it is unsurpassed. 
The romantic story of Pocohontas, the grandeur of the char- 
acter and attainments of Captain John Smith which grows 
brighter with the passing centuries and the almost incredible 
sufferings of the early settlers, combine to make a story the 
fascination of which is not decreased by its sadness. The 
crumbling tower makes a powerful appeal to the imagina- 
tion such as inspired the British Spy to exclaim : 

" Whence arises the irrepressible reverence and tender 
affection with which I look at this broken steeple ? Is it 


that my soul, by a secret, subtle process, invests the mould- 
ering ruin with her own powers ; imagines it a fellow be- 
ing ; a venerable old man, a Nestor or an Ossian, who has 
witnessed and survived the ravages of successive genera- 
tions, the companion of his youth and of his maturity, and 
now mourns his own solitary and desolate condition, and 
hails their spirits in every passing cloud ? Whatever may 
be the cause, as I look at it, I feel my soul drawn forward 
as by the cords of gentlest sympathy and involuntarily open 
my lips to offer consolation to the drooping pile." 

It seems almost anti-climatic to be obliged to record the 
fact that the Society for the Preservation of Virginia An- 
tiquities is arresting the hand of Time and taking measures 
to preserve this famous ruin for future generations. In the 
process of so doing the Society has unearthed much that is 
of interest to the historian of the subject. It is not there- 
fore as literally true as it appeared to be when John Esten 
Cooke said that at present nothing remains of this famous 
settlement " but the ruins of a church tower covered with 
ivy and some old tombstones. The tower is crumbling year 
by year and the roots of trees have cracked the slabs making 
great rifts across the names of the old Armingers and Hon- 
ourables. The place is desolate with its washing waves and 
flitting sea fowl, but possesses a singular attraction. It is 
one of the few localities which recall the first years of 
American history : but it will not recall them much longer. 
Every distinctive feature of the spot is slowly disappearing. 
The river encroaches year by year, and the ground occupied 
by the original huts is already submerged." 


Three hundred years, as pointed out by Congressman 
Towne, seems a long time as we speak the words ; yet in 
the life of nations it is but a little while. There are while 
this is being written five members of the House of Repre- 
sentatives that could clasp hands and unite the settlement of 
Jamestown with its proposed celebration in 1907. The 
present Senators from two of the states in the Union could 
compass the interval with ten years to spare. 

Brief period through three centuries appear on the page 
of history, the disintegrating ruin standing on Jamestown 
Island as the isolated emblem of the nation's birth, accentu- 
ates the immutable law of material change whereby both 
humble and gorgeous monuments reared by the hand of 

" Shall dissolve, 

And like this insubstantial pageant faded, 
Leave not a wrack behind." 


PRINCETON UNIVERSITY, once known as the 
College of New Jersey, was founded by charter in 
1746, under the auspices of the Presbyterian Synod of New 
York, which at that time included many Presbyterian 
churches of New Jersey. The college was opened in 
Elizabethtown in 1847, but was soon removed to Newark, 
and, in 1757, to Princeton, where a large building had been 
erected and named Nassau Hall in honour of King Will- 
iam III. of England, who was of the House of Nassau. 

Nassau Hall has had an interesting history. During a 
part of the Revolutionary War, it was used by both Amer- 
ican and British soldiers as a barrack and hospital, and dur- 
ing the Battle of Princeton (Jan. 3, 1777), the British troops 
made a stand within its walls until they were driven out by 
Washington's advance. In 1783, the Continental Congress 
met in it, and in company with General Washington, at- 
tended the commencement of that year. At this time Gen- 
eral Washington presented the trustees with fifty guineas to 
aid in repairing the damages caused by the war; and the 
money was appropriated for a full length portrait of Gen- 
eral Washington, painted by the elder Peale, to replace the 
portrait of George III., which a cannon ball had ruined. 
Washington's portrait was placed in the original gilt frame. 
Nassau Hall was burned in 1802 and again in 1855. 

Many of the buildings suffered during the Revolution, 
and much trouble was found to raise sufficient funds to re- 


pair them ; but, as time wore on, the college revived and its 
income increased. The first president was the Rev. Jona- 
than Dickinson } the second, the Rev. Aaron Burr (father 
of the famous Aaron Burr) ; the third, Jonathan Edwards ; 
and the sixth, Dr. Witherspoon, a member of the Conti- 
nental Congress and a Signer of the Declaration of Inde- 

With a few exceptions, the buildings, numbering forty- 
two, are grouped around Nassau Hall. They are built, for 
the most part, of stone, and are situated in the midst of 
beautiful grounds, composed of hills, meadows and wood- 
lands and avenues of tall elms. One of the most conspicu- 
ous of these is known as " McCosh's Walk," named for 
Dr. James McCosh, who came from Queen's College, Bel- 
fast, Ireland, to become the president, a post which he held 
from 1868 to 1888. 

Among the most important buildings are the Library, 
Marquand Chapel, Witherspoon Hall, Blair Hall, Alex- 
ander Hall, the John C. Green School of Science, Dickin- 
son Hall, Murray Hall, Edwards Hall, Reunion Hall, Chan- 
cellor Green Library, Biological Laboratory and the Gym- 
nasium. There are also several fine museums and collec- 
tions of pottery, antiquities, geology and archaeology. 

The Princeton Theological Seminary associated with the 
college, was organized in 1812 and chartered in 1822. 

Princeton celebrated its sesqui-centennial in October, 
1896, and on October 22, 1896, President Patton an- 
nounced its change of name to Princeton University by the 
authority of the legislature. 



IN 1814, an important mass meeting was held at the City 
Hall to consider the best means of defending New 
York in case the British army came northward ; and in this 
year among the other defences erected was that of Fort 
Clinton. The construction of this fort out on the rocks 
beyond the Battery was watched with much patriotic inter- 
est, and it is said that one New York lady of high social 
position became so enthusiastic that she trundled a wheel- 
barrow full of earth with her own fair hands from Trinity 
Churchyard to the Battery. Whether or not she despoiled 
the grave of one of her forefathers for this purpose, tradi- 
tion is silent. 

There had been, however, a fort here long before this 
date. During the administration of Governor Cosby, the 
Capsey Battery was erected in 1735, when a tragedy oc- 
curred which is thus described in the paper of July 21: 
" On Wednesday last the first stone of the platform of the 
new Battery on Whitehall Rocks was laid by his Excel- 
lency, our Governor, and it was called George Augustus's 
Royal Battery. As his Excellency was returning and the 
last round was firing, the last piece of the Cannon (being 
very much Honey-Comb'd and eaten almost through, as it 
afterwards appeared by the pieces) burst and the pieces fly- 
ing^ different ways killed three persons; viz., John Symes, 


Esq., High Sheriff for the City and County of New York ; 
Miss Courtlandt, only daughter to the Hon. Col. Court- 
landt, a member of His Majesty's Council in this Province j 
and a son-in-law of Alderman Romur." 

A rip-rap wall lay between the Battery and Fort Clinton, 
which were connected by a bridge of about two hundred 
feet long, and off this bridge there was excellent fishing for 
bass, drum and weak-fish. 

In 1822, when the property was ceded back to the city 
by the Federal Government and the military headquarters 
removed to Governor's Island, it was determined to convert 
Castle Garden into a place of public entertainment. The 
old fort was then leased to a Mr. Marsh, who made a popu- 
lar resort of it. Among other improvements, he floored the 
top of the parapet and covered it with awnings ; and the 
New Yorkers of that day considered it a most delightful 
place to while away the summer hours. 

On August 1 6, 1824, the Cadmus landed the Marquis de 
Lafayette, " the guest of the nation," at Castle Garden, 
where the military force of the city and an immense con- 
course of people were gathered to receive him ; and on 
September 14, a great fete was held in his honour at Castle 
Garden, which was, perhaps, the most brilliant entertain- 
ment ever given in the city up to that time. 

Castle Garden was the scene of large political meetings 
at which Daniel Webster and other notable orators, states- 
men and citizens appeared ; and in 1847, a great memorial 
concert for Mendelssohn was given there. 

This year brings us to the period when Castle Garden 


became one of the most important play-houses of New 
York. It was opened by Messrs. French and Heiser on 
the 28th of June, 1847, wlt ^ tne PP u lar actors and ac- 
tresses Holland, Walcot, Arnold, Herr Cline, Miss Clarke, 
Miss M. Phillips, Mrs. W. Isherwood, etc., etc., and on 
the i8th of August of that year the Havana Opera Com- 
pany, with Luigi Arditi, who is still remembered by many 
old opera-goers, as the conductor. The singers included 
Signorina Tedesco and Perelli, Vita, Novelli, and Candi. 
The first opera presented was Ernani, followed by Norma, 
La Sonnambula and Saffo. 

About this time Castle Garden is described by Philip 
Hone as " the most splendid and largest theatre I ever saw 
a place capable of seating comfortably about six or eight 
thousand persons. The pit or area of the pavilion is pro- 
vided with some hundred small white tables and movable 
chairs, by which people are enabled to congregate into little 
squads and take their ices between the acts. In front of 
the stage is a beautiful fountain which plays when the per- 
formers do not. The whole of this large area is surmounted 
by circular benches above and below, from every point of 
which the view is enchanting." 

On June 5, 1848, George Holland, as director, opened 
with popular farces such as Old Honesty, in which he played 
the part of Tom Perch, Box and Cox, etc. Cline gave per- 
formances on the tight-rope and several notable benefits 
were given, one for Arditi and the great contra-bassist, 
Botesini, in which Truffi, Pico, Vietti, Beneventano, 
Rapetti and Caffi appeared. On August 3d, there was also 


a great benefit performance for the suffering volunteers re- 
turning from the Mexican War. 

From June 8th to September 7, 1850, the Havana Opera 
Company gave a splendid series of performances under 
Arditi's baton, beginning with Norma. The company was 
composed of Marini, Salvi, Lorini, Vietti, C. Badiali, Luigi 
Vita, Elsa Costini, Arditi and Botesini, which, to quote a 
contemporary, " formed, perhaps the finest musical combi- 
nation ever heard in New York, and succeeded with the 
aid of moonlight and sea-breezes, notwithstanding the small- 
ness of the stage and utter deficiency of acoustic require- 
ments, in attracting immense audiences." 

On September nth, a very interesting event occurred, 
the debut of Jenny Land under Barnum's management. 
The clever showman had advertised his song-bird so suc- 
cessfully that the tickets were sold at auction (one Mr. 
Genin, a hatter, bought the first ticket for $225.00), and 
those, not fortunate enough to obtain admission, hired row 
boats and hovered around Castle Garden during the per- 

Max Maretzek now appears on the scene to give a series 
of operas during the summer of 1851, for an admission of 
fifty cents. Marini, Lorini, Forti, Beneventano, and Sig- 
noras Benedetti, Bosio, Truffi, Clotilda Barili, Mme. De 
Vries and Mme. Maretzek formed a strong company, 
which was so successful that in the next year Maretzek 
repeated his venture, with such great singers as Sontag, 
Steffanone, Vietti, Salvi, Marini, Rossi, Strakosch and 


Immense audiences gathered at Castle Garden to hear 
Jullien's wonderful orchestra, the biggest and most ex- 
traordinary band that had ever visited New York. The 
eccentric French leader made his first appearance on July 29, 

In 1852, the Rousset sisters appeared and French opera 
and comedy were played by Mme. Fleury-Jolly and Mile, 
d' Armont. The Ravel family and Blondin also appeared 
in this year. 

There were many attractions at Castle Garden, besides 
the music and drama. There were shows of various kinds 
and plenty of food and drink. One chronicler speaks of 
" the fountain of real champagne, falling over the rocks of 
a mimic grotto from which the people dipped the sparkling 
fluid in amazed bewilderment." 

Maretzek had another season in the summer of 1854, 
and in that year another great event occurred at Castle 
Garden, under Mr. Hackett's management, while the 
Academy of Music on Irving Place (opened Oct. 2, 1854), 
was being made ready, the famous Grisi and Mario were 
introduced to the New York public in Lucrezia Borgia on 
September 4. The seats cost from $3.00 to $5.00. 

One of the important performances during this decade 
was one in commemoration of the introduction of the 
drama at Williamsburg, Va., in 1752, by the Hallam Com- 
pany from London. On this occasion The Merchant of 
Venice and Garrick's Lethe were given. 

Laurence Mutton's memories in Plays and Players (New 
York, 1875) are worth quoting : " At Castle Garden too 


were held the fairs of the American Institute, with their 
countless delights to the boy of that period ; their models 
of full-rigged yachts, their wonderful glass blowers and the 
marvellous machines to pare apples and to wring clothes, 
which were to revolutionize our entire domestic economy 
and which never worked when we got them home. . . . 
To Castle Garden also came the first and only Chinese 
Junk, and to Castle Garden, to see it and wonder at it, 
down Broadway came all the good people of Gotham. 

" At Castle Garden, too, best of all were those peep- 
holes in the gallery, which we can remember so long ago 
that we had to be lifted up by paternal arms to look into 
them. Cosmorama, or diorama, were they called ? and what 
pictures were revealed of impossible deluges, with pre- 
Raphaelite waters, and a pink-coloured Duke of Welling- 
ton at a very blood-red battle of Waterloo ! The cyclorama 
of Paris by Night, or London by Day, is nothing to these 
battle scenes of Castle Garden, as real to us in those days 
as war itself. The exercise of a very little l make believe' 
invested in the old fort a personal interest in all of its 
battles and the peep-holes became port-holes to us, through 
which many a time and oft, with General Taylor, we have 
bombarded Monterey, or have died on the Plains of Abra- 
ham with General Wolfe. 

" Of Castle Garden, hardly can we speak without some 
mention of the promenade on the outer balcony, so popular 
on fine nights when the moon, the inconstant moon, shone 
on the sparkling river and the Jersey shore ; and the music 
of the orchestra, with its voluptuous swell, mingling so 


harmoniously with the melodious c clink, clink ' of the ice 
in the julep glasses, added such charms to the opera." 

Among the important receptions held in Castle Garden 
were those to Louis Kossuth in 1849, an< ^ to tne Prince of 
Wales in 1860. 

After having served as an immigrant depot for many 
years, Castle Garden was turned into an Aquarium, that 
attracts many visitors who are unaware of the interesting 
history that the curiously shaped old brown building in 
Battery Park has to tell. 



NEXT to Mount Vernon, doubtless there is no place in 
the Union that has been more written of or more 
visited than Monticello, the beautiful home of President 
Jefferson \ and yet of the many who have visited this his- 
toric, spot and the much that has been said of it, few are 
aware of the true story connected with the building of this 
celebrated mansion. 

Many legends and marvellous tales are told the stranger 
who treads its portals, few of which are based upon fact ; 
yet there remain many incidents untold which would add 
an interesting page to its history, which we propose to 
gather up and trace the true story of its erection from its 
inception to its completion. 

Colonel Peter Jefferson, the father of Thomas Jefferson, 
and William Randolph, both of Goochland County, Vir- 
ginia, were very close friends and neighbours. In 1735 
both obtained " patents " for large grants of land lying 
contiguous to each other, and ever since their descendants 
have intermarried and maintained this juxtaposition. 

Colonel Peter Jefferson had thus obtained by grant one 
thousand acres lying on each side of the Rivanna River, 
where it intersects the South-West range of mountains ; to 

1 From Historic Homes of the South- West Mountains, Virginia (Phila- 
delphia, 1899). By permission of Messrs. J. B. Lippincott Company. 


this he added by purchase nine hundred acres, making a 
total of nineteen hundred acres of land on each side of the 
river, which embraced the little towns of Shadwell on the 
north and Milton on the south. 

In 1770, Mr. Jefferson, who was then a young practising 
lawyer, first began to clear the summit of Monticello (Italian 
for " little mountain "), with a view of building. It was 
then merely a wild, tangled forest, but he had often looked 
upon this elevated spot with peculiar attraction, and had 
frequently rambled over its steep, craggy sides, or clam- 
bered to its summit, there to gaze upon the grand pano- 
ramic view spread out before him with feelings of sublime 
admiration and intense delight ; it was such a picture as he 
wished always before him, and thus it was he decided here 
to build his home. 

After the destruction by fire of the paternal roof at 
Shadwell, Mr. Jefferson began in earnest to build upon 
this almost inaccessible spot, and in the fall of that year 
(1770) had erected a small one-and-a-half story brick build- 
ing, containing one good-sized room, which is the same 
portion of the present building forming the south-east 
" pavilion " at the extremity of the south " terrace " ; this 
room was the only part of the house habitable when he 
took his young bride there in 1772. 

Mr. Jefferson's conception and designs for building his 
new home were not so elaborate or extensive as were after- 
wards carried out upon his return from Europe. He was 
very conventional in his style and manner of living, not 
wishing to go beyond the simplicity of his neighbours, even 

( g~ 


in his plan of building, and yet there was at that time not 
another brick building outside the town of Charlottesville, 
and though of quite moderate proportions compared to its 
ultimate appearance, it was then considered the most im- 
posing building in the county. 

The belief that Mr. Jefferson imported from England 
most of the brick used for his building is quite erroneous ; 
all these were made upon the spot by his slaves, and the 
site of their manufacture is still pointed out; but in after 
years, when completing the north end and adding many 
embellishments to his original design, some of the finest 
brick and ornamental material were procured in Philadel- 
phia and sent around by water to Richmond, and thence to 
the little town of Milton. 

In the autumn of 1775, still further additions were made, 
and the grounds greatly improved and enlarged, Mr. Jeffer- 
son planting with his own hands many fruit and ornamental 
trees, the trunks of which still remain. 

During the sessions of Congress, while Mr. Jefferson 
would be absent from Monticello for months at a time, the 
work of completion would be necessarily slow, and even 
up to the year 1782 the house was but partially completed. 
Still more did that part which had already been built suffer 
much from delay during his sojourn in France as ambassa- 
dor. It was not until Mr. Jefferson's return in 1794, that 
real active work was resumed, and he applied himself en- 
thusiastically once more to the early completion of his 

His intention now was to build another wing, one story 


and a half high, both to be united and crowned with a 
balustrade, having a dome between them, the apartments to 
be large and convenient, the decorations within and with- 
out to be simple, yet regular and elegant. 

Mr. Jefferson had already erected a saw-mill, a grist- 
mill and a nail-factory, where every nail for the building 
was hand-forged by his coloured boys. Many of his arti- 
sans had been brought with him from Europe, and with all 
the material at hand the work now progressed rapidly. 

The story that Mr. Jefferson laboured upon the building 
and laid many of the brick with his own hand is erroneous. 
He was always fond of working in his " shop," where in 
this " mechanical retreat," which stood at the rear of the 
house, he would put to a practical test his theories and ex- 
ercising his inventive genius ; but he never laboured in the 
real sense of the word except for his own gratification and 
pleasure, or to set an example of industry to those around 

In 1802, the Monticello mansion was considered com- 
pleted. The expense had been very great for those times, 
which, Mr. Jefferson states, was exactly two thousand and 
seventy-six dollars and twenty-nine cents, while he was 
away at Washington, besides the large sums he had previ- 
ously spent upon it. 

Thus it had taken nearly thirty years to build this historic 
old edifice, a building which could now be erected in six 
months under our present rapid mode of construction. 

Let us glance for a moment at this curious structure as 
it then stood, fresh from the hands of the illustrious archi- 


tect, for Mr. Jefferson had designed each part most minutely 

Entering from the eastern portico with its lofty Corin- 
thian pillars and arched door, over which is still seen the old 
English clock which marked the hours, the visitor is here 
met and ushered through large, double glass doors into a 
spacious semi-octagonal hall with its wide fireplace at one 
end, as is usually found in old English mansions. Opposite 
the door is a small gallery, while on one side of it stood a 
fine marble bust of the patriot himself, and on the other 
one of Washington, both by the celebrated Italian artist 
Carracci. Along each side of the hall were many Indian 
relics which Mr. Jefferson had collected. 

From this hall opens another glass door leading into the 
drawing-room or salon being the largest and most handsome 
room in the house, and situated immediately under the 
dome. This room is also octagonal, its floor being laid in 
parquetry of octagonal blocks of different coloured wood, 
which were cut and fitted by his own coloured workmen, 
giving it a most unique and pleasing effect and which for 
skill challenges the genius of a more intelligent race. 
The walls of this stately room were adorned with portraits 
of Columbus, Vespucius, Andrew Doria, Castruccio- 
Castracani, Raleigh, Cortez, Bacon, Newton, Locke, 
Washington, Adams, Madison and Monroe, while on 
either side of the door stood the busts of Alexander and 

Leading from this room on the west side was the dining- 
room, and beyond this the octagonal tea-room. Here were 


to be seen busts of Franklin, Voltaire, Lafayette and Paul 
Jones. Adjoining this were the bedrooms for guests, while 
on the east of the entrance hall was the bedroom of Mrs. 
Martha Randolph, who resided there permanently after the 
death of Mrs. Jefferson. 

Mr. Jefferson's bedroom was next to that of Mrs. Ran- 
dolph, beyond which was his library, which extended to 
the west side of the house, and from which led into an 
arched conservatory ; beyond this was Mr. Jefferson's cele- 
brated workshop. 

The upper part of the house was gained by a very nar- 
row, tortuous stairway ; the rooms above were quite small, 
of low pitch, and badly lighted, or ventilated i all of them 
were of many shapes, in conformity to the octagonal design 
of the house ; alcoves let into the wall served in the place 
of bedsteads, their small dimensions being hardly suited to 
the comfortable repose of an ordinary-sized person. 

The dome over the parlour was covered with thick glass ; 
this was called the "ladies' drawing-room," which at one 
time was used as a billiard-room until the laws of Virginia 
prohibited the game. It was also said to have been used 
as a " ballroom " ; but it is safe to say that Mr. Jefferson 
never had a dancing-party in his house, though extremely 
fond of music and even had his daughter taught the grace- 
ful art. 

The furniture throughout was very handsome, most of 
which was purchased in France and used while living in 
Philadelphia. The beautiful marble and brazier tables, 
French mirrors and elegant sofas of the court style of 


Louis XVI. gave a charming and effective contrast to the 
artistic finish of the interior; while the many rich paint- 
ings, statuary and works of art gave a sense of regal 
splendour which amazed the many plain and simple Vir- 
ginians who thronged the mansion. 

Governor Gilmer of Georgia, who was a frequent and 
familiar visitor, thus describes Monticello during Mr. Jef- 
ferson's last term of office : 

" Three rooms of the house were left open for visitors. 
I saw statuary, fine paintings and a collection of Indian 
relics. The statuary was very beautiful ; I could not be 
satisfied with looking at it. Mr. Jefferson's library door 
was locked, but the window-blinds were thrown back, so 
that I could see several books turned open upon the table, 
the inkstand, paper and pens as they had been used when 
Mr. Jefferson quitted home." 

On top of the dome, Mr. Jefferson had his observatory, 
being a simple platform surrounded by a balustrade. Here 
he would often sit, night and day, surveying the heavens or 
the vast expanse of scenery before him with his telescope. 

The famous mill-factory, machine-shops and weaving 
rooms were to the south-east of the house, beyond which 
was the terraced garden in which he delighted to exhibit his 
horticultural products. The farm itself had not been cleared 
to any great extent around the mansion, most of the crops 
being raised on the north side of the river at Shadwell and 
upon the Tufton farm near Milton. 

Thus we find the farm and mansion of Monticello in 1809, 
upon the retirement of Mr. Jefferson from the Presidency. 


But it was not to gain repose, for he was followed to his 
beautiful mountain home by a host of admirers and visitors, 
and but for the records left us, it was scarcely possible to 
believe the extent to which the imposition upon his privacy 
by friends, kindred and the public generally was carried at 
this time. They would come singly and in families, bring- 
ing babies, nurses, drivers and horses, spending weeks and 
even months at a time, giving the place an appearance of 
some noted watering rendezvous. Here would be gathered 
students, savants, musicians, clergymen, members of Con- 
gress, foreign travellers, artists and men of every faith and 
political creed to gratify their curiosity and say that they 
had seen and heard Mr. Jefferson. In one instance a fam- 
ily of six from Europe remained ten months; on another 
occasion a lady broke a pane of glass with her parasol in her 
eagerness to get a glimpse of the President. Crowds would 
stand about the house for hours watching for his exit, until 
Mr. Jefferson in desperation would fly to his farm, Poplar 
Forest, in Bedford County, for repose, expressing truly his 
feelings when he said : " Political honours are but splendid 

At various times there were also many celebrated visitors 
to Monticello, who have left their record of the place as it 
then appeared ; among these were the Duke de Liancourt, 
a distinguished French traveller, who, in 1796, remained 
several days ; the Marquis de Chastellux, aide to General 
Lafayette; Lieutenant Hall of the English army in 1816; 
and William Wirt, the historian, the friend and frequent 
visitor of Jefferson. All these have given graphic descrip- 


tions of this celebrated spot, some in language most illusive, 
for it is hardly possible for the eye to reach the Chesapeake 
Bay, the Atlantic Ocean, or even to the James River, nor 
can the lofty hills of Maryland or the Peaks of Otter be 
seen, yet the view is grand, majestic and inspiring, the 
same which Mr. Jefferson gazed upon with delight, and 
which has been the theme of poets and historians since, and 
ever more to be the admiration of thousands who make their 
pilgrimage to this shrine of America's freedom. 

Thus stood Monticello at the close of Mr. Jefferson's life 
in 1826. It was known at this time that he was deeply in- 
volved in debt, one partially made in entertaining his nu- 
merous guests, in consequence of which his entire estate 
was soon afterwards offered for sale by his grandson and 
executor, Colonel Thomas Jefferson Randolph, of Edgebill. 
Mr. Jefferson had truly rendered himself poor when he built 
Monticello. The Italians brought over to do the ornamental 
work proved most expensive, and his friends had literally 
" ate him out of house and home " ; so of his once large es- 
tate of ten thousand acres very little remained besides the 
mansion and its contents, he having previously sold, in 1776, 
lands to the amount of twenty thousand dollars in the hope 
of stemming the incoming tide of insolvency. 

About the year 1828, Commodore Uriah P. Levy, of the 
United States Navy, who had known and greatly admired 
Jefferson, secured the mansion with four hundred acres of 
the Monticello tract. In purchasing the place he designed 
to preserve it in the same condition, and carry out the plans 
of the great patriot himself for its adornment ; and still fur- 


ther, in honour of his memory, he erected a handsome statue 
to him in the City Hall at New York. 

Commodore Levy presided most gracefully over the halls 
of Mouticello, and fittingly maintained its just celebrity for 
hospitality. After the death of Commodore Levy the es- 
tate descended to his nephew, the Hon. Jefferson M. Levy, 
of New York, its present owner. 

During the Civil War it was confiscated by the Confed- 
erate Government and fell into rapid decay ; at one time 
being used as a hospital, after which it was rented to un- 
scrupulous parties, who allowed it to be sadly pillaged. 
After the war it was not difficult for Mr. Levy to regain pos- 
session, who at once began its restoration and to-day it 
stands complete, and perhaps far more beautiful than even 
in Jefferson's time. 

Let us picture Monticello as it now stands, after a lapse 
of nearly seventy years, still sitting in all its majestic pride 
and grandeur upon its lofty eminence, while so many of the 
great, the good and the gifted who once graced its halls have 
passed away forever. 

Instead of a steep rough road, filled with rocks and gul- 
lies, upon which vehicles would once frequently stall, the 
visitor can now drive from the city of Charlottesville over 
a smooth and easily graded road, which winds gracefully 
around Carter's Mountain, bringing the traveller to the 
" Notch," or first summit, almost before he realizes it. 
Here stands the porter's lodge, with artistic double gate, 
through which vehicles enter upon the Monticello domain 
proper, and begin to ascend the Little Mountain, upon 


which the mansion sits a mile above. The same smooth 
road, bordered by a stone wall, winds along its rugged sides 
until the cemetery is reached, which stands midway to the 

This is the spot chosen by Jefferson, in 1782, after the 
death of his wife, Martha Wayles Jefferson, where he 
wished himself and family to be laid. It is on a gentle 
slope of the mountain, to the right of the road, surrounded 
by lofty oaks and pines, with all the solemn beauty and 
stillness of the primeval forest. 

A few hundred yards from the cemetery the entrance to 
the lawn is reached, and a glimpse of the grand scenery 
spread below is seen. Keeping to the right, we pass the 
ruins of the celebrated "nail-factory," with its solitary 
chimney festooned with ivy. Farther on, a solitary grave 
surrounded by a stone wall, marks the resting-place of the 
mother of Commodore Levy, who died here* Next we 
come to the " weaving-room," which is now the manager's 
house. Here we are met by a coloured porter, who, though 
looking quite venerable, does not lay claim to being Mr. 
Jefferson's body-servant, though for a few pennies he will 
tell you some wonderful stories of him, and point out with 
pride the many objects of interest. Approaching the man- 
sion up the east lawn, the visitor will stand for a moment 
and glance at the clock over the door and the weather-vane 
overhead, which had so often been scanned by the great 
philosopher. Then reverently entering the double glass 
doors, he will find himself in the famous hall where Jeffer- 
son was wont to meet and greet his visitors. 


On the right hangs a full-length portrait of Commodore 
Levy in full naval uniform ; it is a majestic and striking 
picture of this noted officer; while opposite is a model of 
the Vandalia, the flag-ship in which he sailed around the 
world. Many other paintings adorn the room which will 
claim a close and special notice. In the large parlour or 
salon hangs a full-size portrait of Madam Rachel Levy, the 
mother of Commodore Levy, who was styled the " Ameri- 
can Beauty " while in Europe, a term not inappropriately 
given if we may judge by the beautiful features before us. 
The furniture in this room is of the rich antique pattern, to 
represent the period of Mr. Jefferson's term as ambassador, 
while from the ceiling hangs a magnificent chandelier of an 
old English style for candles. A similar one hangs in the 
dining-room, both having been imported direct from Europe 
by Mr. Levy, and are said to have once graced the palace 
of the Empress Josephine at Malmaison. 

The glass doors, the polished floors of parquetry, the 
antique furniture and ancient portraits, all lend a baronial 
aspect of the past century in close keeping with its appear- 
ance during Mr. Jefferson's time. 

The grounds and exterior appointments are well pre- 
served. Scattered over the rich green lawn are rustic 
benches, statuary, vases and urns of fragrant plants. Here, 
beneath stately elms, locust and chestnut-trees, the visitor 
can sit and feast the eye upon the vast landscape on every 

Half a dozen English spaniels sport on the green lawn, 
while upon the steep, craggy side of the mountain eight or 


ten deer can occasionally be seen, which are parked by a 
high picket-fence. The rear, or south-west, lawn is equally 
beautiful : from this point is to be seen the mystical 
looming of Willis's Mountain in Buckingham County, 
forty miles away, which would be usually pointed out by 
Mr. Jefferson to his visitors ; then to stand on the north- 
west side of the pavilion and view the University, with the 
city of Charlottesville spread in the valley below in all its 
peaceful repose and beauty, while far beyond stretches the 
vast range of the Blue Ridge, embracing an extent of vision 
nearly fifty miles in length, which forms a picture such as 
will repay a journey of several thousand miles to behold. 



ris a matter of inquiry and doubt at this day (1828) 
which has been the house in Letitia Court, wherein 
William Penn, the founder and Colonel Markham, the 
Lieutenant-Governor, dwelt. 1 The popular opinion now 
is, that the inn at the head of the court, occupied as the 
Leopard Inn and since Penn Hall is the identical house al- 
luded to. The cause of this modern confidence is ascribable 
(even if there were no better ground of assurance) to the 
fact, that this building, since they built the additional end 
to the westward, of about eighteen to twenty feet, presents 
such an imposing front towards High Street, and so en- 
tirely closes the court at that end (formerly open as a cart 
passage) that from that cause alone, to those not well- 
informed it looks as the principal house, and may have 
therefore been regarded by transient passengers as Penn's 

1 " This house his commissioners had placed for him, as he requested, 
facing the river. It was on Front Street south of the present Market 
Street, in the centre of a lot which ran back to Second Street, along 
Market, and included about half the block. There were no houses then 
between Front Street and the river-shore. The house was of brick, and 
is still preserved, as we suppose, but has been removed to Fairmount 
Park. It was always known as the Letitia House, because he afterwards 
gave it, with its large lot, to his daughter. In it, I have no doubt, many 
of the early meetings of the Provincial Council were held, and it may 
be considered the first state-house of the Province." Sidney George 
Fisher, The True William Penn (Philadelphia, 1900). 


The truth is that for many years the great mass of the 
population had dropt or lost the tradition about Penn's 
house in the court j and it is only of later years, antiquities 
beginning to excite some attention, that the more intelli- 
gent citizens have revived some of their former hearings 
about the court. During all the earlier years of my life, I 
never heard of Penn living there at all ; but of later years 
I have. I have been, therefore, diligent to ask old men 
about it. Several said it never used to be spoken of in 
their youth. John Warder, an intelligent merchant, now 
above seventy-three years of age, was born at the corner 
house of the alley on High Street, and has told me he never 
was told of Penn's living there, when a boy. On the other 
hand, a few old men have told me, at every period of their 
life the tradition (though known to but few) was, that it 
was one of two houses, to wit either Doyle's Inn, or the 
old Rising Sun Inn on the western side of the alley. Joseph 
Sansom, Esq., about sixty, told me he heard and believed it 
was the house at the head of the court, and so also some 
few others ; but more persons, of more weight in due 
knowledge of the subject, have told me they had been 
always satisfied it was the old Rising Sun Inn on the west- 
ern side of the court. Timothy Matlack, aged ninety-two, 
who was very inquisitive, and knew it from fourteen years 
of age, said it was then the chief house in the court as 
to character; it was a very popular inn for many years 
(whereas Doyle's house was not an inn till many years 
afterwards), that it then had an alley on its northern side 
for a cart way running out to Second Street, and agreeing 


with " Penn's gate over against Friends' Meeting," etc., 
at which place his Council, 1685, required King James's 
proclamation to be read. 

This name Letitia house I found was a name which even 
those who thought the house at the head of the court was 
Penn's, granted that Letitia Penn dwelt in, even while the 
father may have occupied the other. In this they were 
certainly in some error; Letitia being an unmarried girl, 
could never have had a separate house; she was not 
with her father till his second visit in 1700. 'It was in 
Penn's first visit only, in 1682, that he could have dwelt 

I infer from the facts that Penn had " his cottage " built 
there before his landing by Colonel Markham ; that some 
of the finer work was imported for it with the first vessels ; 
that he used it as often as not at his " palace " at Penns- 
bury. After him, it was used by Colonel Markham, his 
Deputy Governor ; and afterwards for public offices. That 
in 1700, when he used the Slate-house, corner of Second 
Street and Norris Alley, having a mind to confer something 
upon his daughter, then with him, he gave her a deed, 
i mo. 29th, 1701, for all that half square lying on High 
Street and including said house. Several years after this 
event, the people, as was their custom, when the court 
began to be built up on each side of a " 36 feet alley," 
having no name for it, they, in reference to the last con- 
spicuous owner, called it Letitia Court, in reference to the 
then most conspicuous house s the same house so given to 
Penn by his daughter. 


If we would contemplate this Letitia house in its first 
relations, we should consider it as having an open area to 
the river the whole width of the half square, with here and 
there retained an ornamental clump of forest trees and 
shrubbery on either side of an avenue leading out to the 
Front Street ; having a garden of fruit trees on the Second 
Street side and on Second Street " the Governor's Gate," 
so called " opposite to the lot of the Friends' Great Meet- 
ing." By this gate the carriages entered and rode along 
the avenue by the north side of the house to the east front 
of the premises. 

This general rural appearance was in all accordance with 
Penn's known taste, and was doubtless so continued until 
the ground was apportioned out in thirty city lots, as ex- 
pressed by James Logan in a letter to Letitia Aubrey, in 
the year 1737. 

The following facts present scraps of information which 
may tend still further to illustrate the proper history of the 
premises, to wit : " Pitch upon the very middle of the platt 
of the towne, to be laid facing the harbour, for the situation 
of the house," Thus intimating, as I conceive, the choice 
of Letitia Court, and intimating his desire to have it facing 
the river, "as the line of houses of the towne should 

The Slate-Roof house still standing at the south-east 
corner of Norris Alley and Second Street, and now reduced 
to a lowly appearance, derives its chief interest from having 
been the residence of William Penn. The peculiarity of 
its original construction, and the character of several of its 


successive inmates, will enhance its interest to the modern 
reader. The facts concerning the premises, so far as may 
now be known, are generally these, to wit : 

The house was originally built, in the early origin of the 
city, for Samuel Carpenter certainly one of the earliest 
and greatest improvers of the primitive city. It was prob- 
ably designed for his own residence, although he had other 
houses on the same square, nearer to the river. 

It was occupied as the city residence of William Penn 
and family, while in Philadelphia on his second visit in 
IJOO; 1 in which house was born, in one month after their 
arrival, John Penn, "the American" the only one of the 
race ever born in the country. To that house, therefore, 
humble, degenerated, and altered in aspect as it now is, we 
are to appropriate all our conceptions of Penn's employ- 
ments, meditations, hopes, fears, etc., while acting as Gov- 
ernor and proprietary among us. In those doors he went 
in and out up and down those stairs he passed in those 
chambers he reposed in those parlours he dined or regaled 
his friends through those garden grounds he sauntered. 
His wife, his daughter Letitia, his family and his servants 

1 " On their arrival at Philadelphia, he (Logan) and Penn, with Mrs, 
Penn and Penn's daughter, Letitia, lived for a month at the house of 
Edward Shippen. After that they moved to the slate-roof house, as it was 
called, on the east side of Second Street, north of Walnut. Penn rented 
it for two years, and used it for his town residence. His son, John, was 
born there, always known as John the American, and it was afterwards 
used by Logan as an office for the proprietary business. It should have 
been preserved as a relic, for in later years it had many interesting asso- 
ciations." Sidney George Fisher, The True William Penn (Philadel- 
phia, 1900). 


were there. In short, to those who can think and feel, the 
place is filled with local impressions. Such a house should 
be rescued from its present forlorn neglect ; it ought to be 
bought and consecrated to some lasting memorial of its 
former character, by restoring its bastions and salient angles, 
etc. It would be to the character of such Societies as the 
Historical and Penn Association, etc., to club their means 
to preserve it for their chambers, etc., as long as themselves 
and the city may endure. 

After William Penn had left this house, on his intended 
return with his family to England, he, while aboard his re- 
turn ship the Messenger (an appropriate name for the mes- 
sage and business he was purposing !) writes on the 3d of 
September, 1701, to James Logan, saying: "Thou may 
continue in the house I lived in till the year is up." 

James Logan in reply, in 1702, says: "I am forced to 
keep this house still, there being no accommodation to be 
had elsewhere for public business." In fact, he retained 
it as a government house till 1704, when he and his coad- 
jutors moved to Clark's Hall in Chestnut Street, afterwards 
Pemberton's great house. 

James Logan, in a letter to William Penn of fth Decem- 
ber, 1703, says Samuel Carpenter "has sold the house thou 
lived in " to William Trent (the founder of Trenton in 
1719) for 850. 

At this house Lord Cornbury, then Governor of New 
York and New Jersey (son of Lord Clarenden, cousin of 
Queen Anne), was banqueted in great style in 1702, on the 
occasion of his being invited by James Logan, from Bur- 


lington, where he had gone to proclaim the Queen. Lo- 
gan's letter, speaking of the event, says he was dined " equal, 
as he said, to anything he had seen in America." At night 
he was invited to Edward Shippen's (great house in south 
Second Street) where he was lodged and dined with all his 
company, making a retinue of nearly thirty persons. He 
went back well pleased with his reception, via Burlington, 
in the Governor's barge, and was again banqueted at Penns- 
bury by James Logan, who had preceded him for that pur- 
pose. Lord Cornbury there had a retinue of about fifty 
persons, which accompanied him thither in four boats. His 
wife was once with him in Philadelphia, in 1703. Penn, 
on one occasion, calls him a man of luxury and poverty. 
He was at first very popular; and having made many 
fine promises to Penn, it was probably deemed good 
policy to cheer his vanity by striking public entertain- 
ments. In time, however, his extravagant living and 
consequent extortion, divested him of all respect among 
the people. 

In 1709, "the slated-roof house of William Trent" is 
thus commended by James Logan as a suitable residence 
for him as Governor, saying: "William Trent, designing 
for England, is about selling his house (that he bought of 
Samuel Carpenter) which thou lived in, with the improve- 
ment of a beautiful garden," then extending half-way to 
Front Street and on Second Street nearly down to Walnut 
Street. " I wish it could be made thine, as nothing in this 
town is so well fitting a Governor. His price is .900 of 
our money, which it is hard thou canst not spare. I would 


give 20 to .30 out of my own pocket that it were thine 
nobody's but thine." 

The house, however, was sold to Isaac Norris, who de- 
vised ; .t to his son, Isaac, through whom it has descended 
down to the present proprietor, Sarah Norris Dickinson, 
his grand-daughter (1828). 

It was occupied at one period, it is said, by Governor 
Hamilton, and, for many years preceding the war of Inde- 
pendence, it was deemed a superior boarding house. While 
it held its rank as such, it was honoured with the company, 
and, finally, with the funeral honours of General Forbes 
(successor to General Braddock), who died in that house in 
1759. The pomp of his funeral from that house surpassed 
all the simple inhabitants had before seen in their lives. 
His horse was led before the procession, richly caparisoned, 
the whole conducted in all "the pomp of war," with 
funeral dirges, and a military array with arms reversed, etc. 1 

In 1764, it was rented to be occupied as a distinguished 
boarding-house by the widow Gray don, mother of Captain 
Graydon of Carlisle, who has left us his amusing Memoirs 
of Sixty Tears' Life in Pennsylvania. There his mother, 
as he informs us, had a great many gentry as lodgers. He 
describes the old house as very much of a castle in con- 
struction, although built originally for a Friend. " It was a 
singular, old-fashioned structure, laid out in the style of a 
fortification, with abundance of angles, both salient and re- 
entering. Its two wings projected to the street in the man- 

i He had had great honours shown to him two years before for the cap- 
ture of Fort Duquesne (Fort Pitt). 


ner of bastions, to which the main building, retreating from 
sixteen to eighteen feet, served for a curtain. 1 ... It 
had a spacious yard, half way to Front Street, and orna- 
mented with a double row of venerable lofty pines, which 
afforded a very agreeable rus in urbe." She continued there 
till 1768-1769, when she removed to Drinker's big house, 
up Front Street, near to Race Street. Graydon's anecdotes 
of distinguished persons, especially of British officers and 
gentry who were inmates, are interesting. John Adams and 
other members of the First Congress had their lodgings in 
the " Slate-House." 

1 We may say of this house trade has changed the scene ; for the recess 
is since filled out to the front with store windows, and the idea of the 
bastions, though still there, is lost 



WHEN Cortes conquered the country, he had instruc- 
tions from Ferdinand and Isabella, from Charles V. 
and from Pope Alexander IV. to Christianize it ; and this 
part of his duty, with the help of his army of priests and 
the formidable terrors of the Inquisition, he accomplished 
all too zealously. The successive Spanish Viceroys com- 
pleted the work in the spirit of their age ; indeed, in such a 
manner, that when the books are opened and the last seal 
broken, the cries of the heathen will most probably drown 
the anthems of the saints. The Old Testament injunction, 
u Thou shall utterly destroy the heathen from amongst you," 
without a single gleam from the brightness of the Sermon 
from the Mount, has under no circumstances been more 
rigorously enforced than by Spain in Mexico and Peru ; and 
what remains of her glories, but the bitterest of bitter feel- 
ing in Mexico, and the hatred of her Cuban subjects ? 

In the Conquest of Mexico it was the rule to destroy all 
the high places and all vestiges of the ancient worship. The 
Teocalli or temples were levelled to the ground ; crosses 
were set up, and churches built on their sites. The mag- 
nificent Cathedral of Mexico stands over the spot where 
the high altar of Montezuma and his predecessors once ran 
with the blood of human sacrifices. The first church on 
this site, after the destruction of the Teocalli, was founded 


by Charles V. His successor, Philip, ordered it to be pulled 
down, and commenced the erection of the present structure 
in 1573. I* was not finished an d dedicated until the 22d 
of December, 1657. It has a fine dome and two open tow- 
ers, each 218 feet high, in which are large bells exposed to 
view. The length of the building is 426 feet ; the archi- 
tecture is Doric ; the railings of the choir, and the passage 
to the high altar were made of tumbago* manufactured at 
Macao in China, and weighing twenty-six tons. It is a 
brassy-looking metal, composed of silver, gold and copper, 
but contains so much gold, that an off r has been made to 
replace it with pure silver, and give many thousand dollars 
in addition. The cost of the Cathedral, that is, of the walls 
alone, was over $2,000,000. The interior of the building 
forms a Greek cross, and is divided into five naves. On 
either side of the main nave are wide chapels, elaborately 
adorned and enclosed by bronze gates ; the walls are clothed 
with pictures in rich old Spanish gold frames ; and at one 
time a Murillo stood over the high altar, but the present 
archbishop, wise in his generation, after the robbery of a 
famous picture from a church in Spain, caused it to be re- 
moved to the archiepiscopal palace, where it now hangs. 
There is no stained glass in the windows, and there are no 
such luxuries as pews; Indian and Hidalgo, Aztec and 
Spaniard, peon and peasant, kneel on the bare boards. One 
rude bench is reserved for the old and infirm. 

The choir is one mass of elaborate carving ; the choir books, 
dating from 1620, are of velium, and painted in black letters- 
Close to the choir is a magnificent altar, supported by green 


marble columns resembling malachite. A rich balustrade of 
tumbago connects the altar and the choir. The picture of 
the Virgin, in the central nave, was painted by Cabrena in 
1700, and a St. Sebastian, in one of the chapels, by Baltha- 
sor de Echavi in 1645. The glory of the cupola was 
painted by Simeno de Planes ; on the first plane are placed 
the ancient patriarchs and the celebrated women of the Old 
Testament, the colours being as vivid at this moment as 
when laid in. The balustrade surrounding the grand altar 
is also of tumbago, as are the sixty-two statues which serve 
as chandeliers. The high altar is approached oy seven steps, 
the tabernacle is supported by eight ranges of pillars in the 
form of a colonnade, on the first of whicri stand the statues 
of the Apostles and the Evangelists, while those of numerous 
saints occupy the second range. On the third appear 
groups of angels, and, rising from the midst, the Mother of 

The sacristy is fitted up with oak, black as ebony from 
age, with several large pictures. I often looked into it, and 
one day I found two or three priests indulging in a quiet 
chat after Mass, while the attendants folded away the rich 
vestments. A padre, seeing I was a stranger, offered to 
show me the magnificent set of vestments worked for the 
Cathedral by command of Isabella of Spain ; they are of 
cloth of gold, encrusted with gems, and in panels passages 
from Holy Writ are worked exquisitely in silk, so as to 
have the effect of the finest painting ; it is only on close in- 
spection that I could discover the traces of the needle. 
These gorgeous vestments are useless for practical purposes, 


for they are so heavy that no man of ordinary dimensions 
could sustain their immense weight for more than a few 
minutes. Saying mass, or even pronouncing the benedic- 
tion in them, is out of the question. By the kindness of 
the padre I was also permitted to view the great council 
chamber, part and parcel of the Cathedral, in which the 
councils of the bishops were held, the Archbishop of Mex- 
ico presiding on a great gilded throne. This is indeed a 
noble apartment; it has an open groined roof, and around 
the walls are portraits of suffragan bishops of Mexico copies 
only, for the originals are hung in a sort of secret chamber, 
to which I was subsequently conducted. This chamber 
was approached through the gates of a side altar, and the 
cicerone touched a to me invisible spring; a door of 
maximum thickness slowly opened to admit us to a sort of 
crypt, with formidably barred windows, around which hang 
the original portraits of the bishops from first to last, in 
splendid preservation. In this apartment was a massive 
oaken table, with a sort of funnel in the middle of it. It is 
on this table that the offerings of the faithful, after a collec- 
tion, are deposited, counted, and dropped through the funnel 
into- huge, grim-looking, iron-bound boxes, which stood 
about the room. 

During my stay in Mexico excavations were being made 
in front of the Cathedral tc convert the paved ground into 
a garden, and but a few feet below the surface some octag- 
onal columns of the first church were discovered ; also two 
heads of large stone serpents, some ten feet long and five 
feet in depth and in thickness ; the carving of the feathered 


ornaments on the heads was perfect ; they had originally 
been the capitals to the doorposts of the pagan temple of 
Montezuma, and these interesting fragments of both temple 
and primitive church were conveyed with much labour and 
care to the National Museum. 



THE old house bought by the Ipswich Historical So- 
ciety is the best surviving example in New England 
of the earliest Seventeenth-Century colonial architecture. 
There are several finer and grander specimens of the do- 
mestic architecture of later periods in Essex County, but in 
all the category of colonial houses there is no such perfectly 
preserved and authentic type of the domestic architecture of 
the middle of the Seventeenth Century. The exact date of 
its erection is unknown, but all the valid evidence available, 
in the absence of documentary records bearing directly on 
this point, indicates that it was built as early as 1650, and 
there are architects who believe that it was erected still 
earlier. The extreme rarity of houses dating from that re- 
mote period, so soon after the settlement of Massachusetts, 
is due primarily to the limited longevity of wooden building, 
and secondarily to the fact that the colonists were at first 
obliged by the paucity of proper building materials to erect 
only temporary cabins of logs, which were subsequently 
abandoned and neglected, after more comfortable dwellings 
were made possible by the establishment of saw-mills and 
forges and roads. Ipswich was settled in 1633. The first 
saw-mill in the town was established in 1649. The great 
posts and girders, with other surviving timbers of the frame 
of the old house in question, bear no marks of the axe or 


the adze, and it would be a fair inference that they were 
sawed, though not necessarily by water power, for we know 
that some extensive sawing was done by hand in sawpits. 

. . . There are three or four successive parts or chap- 
ters in the serial story of the old house. The west end of 
the main structure was built first ; of this there is evidence 
in the material, the workmanship, the age of the woodwork, 
and in indirect, but convincing written evidence. The 
main beams of the frame the posts, sills, girders, joists, 
rafters, etc. in this wing are of American larch or tama- 
rack, a soft wood, which, however, has shown astonishing 
durability in every part 'except where it has been exposed 
to moisture. The east part of the main structure, the 
second chapter, was possibly added in the time of the afflu- 
ent and pious Captain John W hippie, the second of that 
name, who, in 1683, was estimated to be " worth " $16,570. 
In this part of the house the main beams are of oak, and 
the posts and girders are carved with some attempt at ele- 
gance of finish. Later a lean-to was added, the rafters on 
the north (rear) side of the roof being supplemented by a 
new set of rafters at an easier angle, carrying the roof at 
one point almost to the ground. Whether the lean-to was 
entirely built at one time, or in two sections, is unknown 
and is not of importance. The lean-to is a relatively mod- 
ern part, and the original profile of the exterior must have 
been very angular and high-shouldered in proportion to its 
ground area. 

Now, here are the more interesting dimensions of the 
building, as it stands. Length, on the ground, fifty feet j 


width, thirty-six feet. Great east room, ground floor, 
twenty-four by seventeen and one-half feet ; height seven 
feet. Fireplace in this room, seven feet and three inches 
wide; two feet, nine inches deep. Dimensions of oak 
girders, fourteen by fourteen inches. Windows, diamond 
panes, and hung on hinges, five feet, three inches wide, and 
two feet, six inches high ; three sashes each ; should be 
leaded glass. East chamber, same measurements as east 
room below. Fireplace in this room, six feet, two inches 
wide, and two feet, two inches deep. These figures may 
mean but little to the layman, but they are full of signifi- 
cance to the architect, the builder, and the antiquarian. 
The exterior of the Whipple house has nothing in its 
aspect that would serve to draw especial attention to it ; 
but the interior possesses these two distinct points of archi- 
tectural merit, remarkable massiveness of construction, and 
fine, dignified proportions. The two main rooms on the 
ground floor are in fact superb for their simplicity, size and 
solidity. The beautiful rich brown tone of the old oak 
posts, girders and joists gives the key of colour. There 
is a white plastered ceiling between the joists, the plas- 
ter being put directly on the floor-boards of the second 
story, . . . 

One thing is evident, to any visitor who stands in the 
great east room, and contemplates the stately proportions 
of the interior ; that is, that the Whipples must have been 
great swells in their day, to possess such a mansion, In- 
deed, no further proof of their status, so far as means are 
concerned, is needed than is furnished by the entertaining 


inventory of Captain John Whipple's estate in 1683, with 
its painful particularity, itemizing each separate article of 
household use, apparel, tools, edibles, beverages, and even 
" Lawrence ye Indian," who was valued at four pounds, a 
sum which seems inexpensive, even where the supply of 
Indians exceeded the demand. It is enough to make col- 
lectors' mouths water to run over this list of old furniture, 
silverware, pewter, china, arms, andirons, brasses, coppers, 
gallipots, buckles and buttons, " kittles," warming-pans, 
trenchers, candlesticks, " tin lanthorns," beakers, flagons, 
" basons," piggins, " sully bub " pots, spinning wheels, and 
a score of other things, more or less phonetically spelled, 
after the excellent fashion of the epoch, when, as George 
Eliot remarks, spelling was mostly a matter of taste. 

The first John Whipple, whose estate was inventoried 
in 1669, was not nearly so well off as his son afterwards 
became, though he had a farm of about 360 acres of land, 
worth $750, and houses and lands in the town, worth 
$1,250, with $45 worth of " apparell," $35 worth of 
" ffeather beds," $6,75 worth of "chayres," and $12 worth 
of " bookes." 

Speaking of books, the Ipswich Historical Society has 
in its custody, in the west room of the old house, the 
most unmitigatedly pious lot of old books I ever saw. 
They come from the Religious Society in Ipswich, and 
the visitor may while away long hours in reading such light 
literature as Jonathan Edwards' " Sinners in the Hands of 
an Angry God " (Salem, 1786), Increase Mather's " An- 
gelagraphia" (Boston, 1696), or "The Loving Invitation 


of Christ to the Aged, Middle- Aged, Youth and Children, 
from the mouth of Elizabeth Osborn, only Three Years 
and Nine Months Old." The collection of books, manu- 
scripts, autographs, etc., displayed in this room embraces a 
copy of the Breeches Bible (1615); an autograph letter 
from John Winthrop, Jr., founder of Ipswich (1634); an 
inventory of the household goods in Winthrop's house in 
Ipswich ; several old petitions, deeds, wills, and other 
Colonial and Revolutionary documents of interest. On 
rainy days, when the outside world is dark and dismal, and 
the time hangs heavy on one's hands, it will be consoling 
for the people who like that sort of thing to sit down and 
run through Ower ' work on " Indwelling Sin," Baxter's 
" Call to the Unconverted," Woodward's " Fair Warning," 
Crawford's " Dying Shots," the account of " Count Struen- 
see's Conversion," Cooper on " Predestination," Edwards 
on " Original Sin," Shepard's " Sound Believer," Langdon 
on " The Revelation," Coleman's " Parable of the Ten 
Virgins," Webb's " Direction for Conversion," Bellamy's 
" Glory of the Gospel," Ditton on " The Resurrection," 
Doddridge on " Regeneration," or Stoddard's " Safety of 
Appearing in ye Righteousness of Christ." But, though 
the theology of these stalwart Calvinists may seem a bit 
inflexible and unlovely to modern eyes, what they did not 
know about setting up a title-page was not worth knowing. 
As religionists they were of their day, took their creeds 
straight and hot, and their rum ditto ; but they were first- 
rate printers ! 

The house is a veritable museum of Seventeenth- and 


Eighteenth-Century relics and curios. There is a buffet 
full of old china in the west room which contains some 
very rare and choice pieces. The andirons in this room 
are cast-iron figures of Hessians, in grenadier caps, picked 
out with gilt. The iron fire-back is dated 1693. The 
andirons in the east room are dated 1596. The great east 
room is fitted up as a kitchen. The fire burns on the 
hearth as of yore, and the spacious fireplace is fully 
equipped with ancient cooking utensils. Huge pewter 
platters and obsolete fire-arms adorn the walls. The 
spinning-wheels, cheese-press and churns are in their 
places. Here we find the yarn reels, the great winnowing 
fan, the old cradle, foot-stove, candle-mould, candlesticks, 
nice pieces of old needlework, samplers, old lamps, pewter 
porringers, tinder-boxes, trivets, lanthorns, trammels, tin 
kitchens with spits, etc., and a highly interesting collection 
of old furniture. In the west room are the cabinet of old 
china, sundry heirlooms, an ancient piano, antique chairs 
and pictures. The paintings comprise a smoky old panel 
depicting the harbour of Ipswich, in which the vessels fly 
the British flag, showing that it was painted prior to the 
Revolution, and a life-size bust portrait of Whitefield, 
anonymous, and somewhat queer about the eyes. White- 
field preached in Ipswich, and he did so to such good effect 
that Satan fled through the meeting-house window, leaving 
on the window-ledge the print of his cloven hoof. Mr. 
Waters may not believe this, but it is just as true as some 
other local traditions. 

"The old mansion," says President Waters, in a pas- 


sage of retrospect which shows how sympathetic is his 
vein of fancy, " is a constant reminder of all the glorious 
names which hallow and illumine the early years of our 
town life, Saltonstall and Winthrop, Symonds and Deni- 
son, Ward and Norton and Hubbard and all the rest. 
They were all friends of the Elder. Every one of them 
may have crossed our threshold. As we sit here in the 
flickering firelight we seem to see them sitting, as of old, 
and conversing on the great themes. . , . The old 
pavement in the dooryard rings again with the hoofbeats 
of Captain Whipple's horse hurrying to lead his troopers 
on a swift ride to Andover to repel an Indian assault. 
John Appleton and Thomas French are talking in this 
very room of their imprisonment and trial for advocating 
resistance to the royal governor's edict and demanding rep- 
resentation before they would submit to taxation. Colonel 
Hodgkins and Colonel Wade and Major Burnham smoke 
and sip their steaming cups and chat of Bunker Hill and 
Yorktown, of Burgoyne and Cornwallis, Washington and 
Lafayette." And he evokes a vision of the ancient life, 
its feasts, weddings, funerals, departures and home-comings, 
its daily toil, and all the lights and shadows of the remote 
Puritan home life, that revives the far-off days with a 
singular and touching reality. 



FROM Jacksonville to St. Augustine is like a going 
back from the Nineteenth Century into the Six- 
teenth. This, the oldest city in the United States with 
its history that should be printed in red letters, being one 
volume of war and siege and bloodshed is to all appear- 
ance the old Spanish settlement still. The world seems to 
have gone on and left it behind ; the march of modern im- 
provement has passed it by ; the tourist has found it out, 
and the hotel-keeper, of course, keeps him company ; but 
they have failed to spoil, or modernize and mar the quaint 
old town. Step outside your hotel, and you at once step 
into a bygone age. The old Spanish city lies wrapt in a 
dreamy peace j it seems asleep in the sunshine. Narrow, 
unpaved, sandy streets ; quaint wooden houses breaking out 
into balconies and piazzas ; untidy yards with ragged 
banana-trees and palms and oleanders and climbing roses ; 
" coquina " houses, relics of old days, massive of wall and 
scant of window, built of the curious material " coquina," 
found only hereabouts (formed of masses of crushed shell 
dug out of Anastasia Island, just across the river) this is 
St. Augustine at a first glance ! 

The oldest inhabitant is sitting at his door under his own 
vine and fig-tree, smoking the pipe of peace in his shirt 
sleeves. He bids us good evening; we stop and chat 


awhile with the old man, who is like a picture, his snow- 
white hair and beard framing a rugged brown face. He 
is a Spaniard, he tells us, born here, and nearly grown to 
manhood when the Spanish flag was hauled down to give 
place to the Stars and Stripes. He points out one of the 
oldest Spanish houses, a pink house, built of " coquina," 
and plastered over with a delicious soft pink like the flush 
of sunset. Its little lattice windows are broken, so that we 
can see the thickness of its massive " coquina " walls ; it 
is empty and falling rapidly to ruin. Down the narrow, 
sunny, sandy, almost deserted street comes a riderless 
horse, trotting at a brisk pace. He knows his home, and 
turns in under his own archway smartly. Next comes a 
solitary cow, and presently a mare, also unencumbered by 
rider or saddle, followed by a pretty little foal. They are 
all returning to their respective homes in a quiet, business- 
like way. 

We walk on to the Plaza, the central spot in which the 
sluggish currents of life in St. Augustine seem to meet and 
eddy and make a little stir in the sleepy old place. Facing 
on the Plaza is the old Catholic church, with its high 
quaint belfry, to which the guide-books and residents in- 
variably call the attention of the tourist. Here is the old 
market, under whose arched roof, men, women and chil- 
dren were bought and sold once upon a time, and not so 
long ago, before the slave traffic (which brought ts curse 
with it, and pulled down the pillars of the temple, and 
drew ruin, at least for a season, on these fair lands of the 
South), gave place to the innocent bargaining for fish. 


flesh, fowl and fruit, which is all these old walls look down 
upon to-day. 

Beyond the Plaza we come upon the " sea-wall," which 
our little guide-book has led us to anticipate as a " promen- 
ade.'* When we behold it, however, our dreams of 
promenading vanish. It runs along the shore, from the 
modern barracks at one end of the town to the ancient 
fort at the other. It is simply a low, massive stone wall, 
the top of which, unprotected by any rail or parapet, is 
described as the favourite " Lover's Walk " ; but, if it is 
so, St. Augustine lovers must be slender as well as affec- 
tionate. We find it quite enough to walk singly upon it 
with a steady head. The tourist is " promenading himself" 
there, of course, with his wife in her palmetto-hat; and we 
perceive, on observation of the various couples, that lovers, 
when young and slim, may walk double, though more fre- 
quently he walks behind her. A soft, fresh breeze blows 
up from the unseen Atlantic, which is shut from our view 
by the long slip of Anastasia Island, running parallel with 
the sea-wall, between the ocean, whose salt fragrance floats 
faintly to us, and the river lapping the base of the wall. 
The sea-wall walk leads us to the old Fort Marion, which 
is, perhaps the sight to be seen here. 

The first stone was laid in 1592, the last, as the inscription 
over the gateway tells us, in 1756. The great fortress is 
in excellent preservation. Its massive "coquina" walls 
stand almost untouched by time or siege, though the wild 
grass waves under our feet in the barbican and blue flowers 
blossom from the chinks in the " coquina " blocks. A 


grim silence broods over the ancient walls, as we explore 
turret and drawbridge, casement and bastion. There is an 
old sergeant whose mission is to show visitors over the 
place, but he is apparently off duty, for we seek and find 
him not. A fellow-tourist, however, gives us all the infor- 
mation we require. We sit on damp blocks of stone on a 
mud floor under a vaulted roof, while he tells us of the 
" locked dungeon," into which admission can only be 
gained through the absent sergeant. He pioneers us into 
the " bakehouse," a huge, dimly-lit stone room, also with 
mud floor and vaulted roof, with a recess which served 
as oven, and one aperture which combined the offices of 
chimney and window. It was here that, during the siege 
of St. Augustine, all the townsfolk collected for shelter; 
and a wretched community they must have been ! From 
this bakehouse a gloomy archway leads into a pitch-dark 
dungeon. Our escort lights matches, which only serve to 
make the darkness visible. By their feeble glimmer we can 
see neither roof nor walls, nothing but the thick blackness 
which closes round us like a pall. We are told, however, 
that the obscurity here is nothing to the inky darkness of 
the " locked dungeon," wherein, the story goes, skeletons 
were found in iron cages, but this is, by the best authori- 
ties, denied. 

We next inspect a comparatively light and airy cell, with 
a narrow grating high up, to our eyes unattainable and im- 
passable, but through which the Indian chief, " Wild Cat," 
is said to have effected his escape. The great Osceola, his 
companion in obscurity, nobly refused to avail himself of 


the same means. It strikes me as possible that the " Cat " 
was the slenderer and more agile of the two. From the 
fort we cross a rough and pathless stretch of sand and turf 
to another relic of the past to the old city gates. They 
are built of " coquina," of course. We inspect the barred 
and grated sentinel-boxes, the high towers flanking the 
gateway and dutifully resist the temptation to chip off a 
piece of "coquina" as a souvenir. 

The next day is Easter Sunday ; the quaint old streets 
are crowded with gaily-dressed people ; the Plaza is swarm- 
ing with happy pairs. This is truly the " Land of Flowers." 
As we saunter in the shade of the great trees that make 
King Street rather a forest-glade than a street, and linger to 
gaze into the groves and gardens which surround almost 
every residence, we drink in the fragrant breeze, heavy with 
perfumes of myriad blossoms, and revel in the luxuriance 
of tropical bloom and foliage all around us. Here is the 
lance-leaved palmetto, and here the beautiful feathery date- 
palm ; here the oleanders droop their pink and pearl, starred 
and scented boughs high out of reach above our heads ; here 
climbing roses straggle up to the housetops ; here are great 
forest-like trees covered with the sweet yellow flowers of 
the apoppinac ; here the giant magnolia, tall as a poplar 
and sturdy as an oak, is opening the great white petals of 
its mammoth flower. Now and then we come upon the 
bridal blossoms of the orange and again upon branches 
weighed down under their globes of ruddy gold. 

We take a farewell stroll down St. George's Street 
where the oldest inhabitant still sits smoking under his fig- 


tree, and the ragged bananas and spiky palms in the gardens 
stand out against the deepening glow in the west as even- 
ing draws on. We wander down to the sea-wall, which is 
nearly deserted now. There are one or two wild-looking 
men on horseback, their saddles mere mats of crimson or 
blue embroidered cloth, their feet thrust into the unsightly 
bags known as Mexican stirrups. There are several dogs, 
one large yellow mastiff taking his siesta on the sea-wall, 
occupying the entire width of the " promenade " ; a canine 
friend, coming to interview him, stands on his hind legs, 
with his fore-paws on the top of the wall. This somehow 
makes the " Lover's Walk " look a very small affair. One 
of the riders spurs his horse up on to the wall, and, like the 
successful admirer of " the Lady Kunigonde of the Kynast," 
he " rides along the battlemented parapet," breaking up the 
canine tete-a-tete. Fortunately, there are no lovers on the 
wall to be startled from off their own particular domain, 
only the yellow mastiff scuttles down in a hurry as horse 
and rider gallop by. 

The sun is setting behind the town, and the eastern sky 
before us catches a tender reflected blush just on the horizon. 
Beyond the sea-wall lies a stretch of water, blue as heaven 
and calm as a dream ; it scarcely laps against the old stones ; 
the little boats on its surface " float double " boat and 
shadow ; an indescribable softness, like a sleep, broods over 
its waveless tide. Beyond this entranced water lies the long 
dark shade of Anastasia Island ; beyond that, the pale re- 
flected rose of the eastern sky fades slowly with the dying 
day. The one or two stragglers on the sea-wall stand out 


in vivid silhouette against the blue water and blushing sky ; 
the clatter of the horse's hoofs, as the equestrian Blondin 
dashes along the top of the wall, seems to shatter the silence 
like the breaking of a spell. 



LONG ago, in some far away time too distant for actual 
history to have recorded the fact, a few Breton sail- 
ors, coming up the great river were surprised by a terrific 
storm. In all the terror of the moment, the blackness of 
the night, the howling of the winds and the rushing of the 
waters, their hearts went back to distant Brittany. In child- 
hood and in youth they had been taught to have recourse to 
the beloved patroness of their chere Bretagne. Never had 
St. Anne d' Auray failed to hear a simple and heartfelt 
prayer. They registered a vow : if the good saint brought 
them once more to land, there where their feet touched they 
would build her a shrine. A morning came blue and cloud- 
less. These brave men were ashore and where ? They 
looked about them. To the northward rose the Laurentian 
hills, to the southward the wide-rolling St. Lawrence, to the 
eastward a little stream, now the St. Anne, dividing the set- 
tlement from the neighbouring parish of St. Joachim. In 
such surroundings they built a simple wooden chapel and 
laid the foundation of a shrine now famous throughout 

The years went on ; these hardy voyageurs passed on their 
way and were heard of no more in the village they had 
f <nmded. But habitations soon grew up, and the settlement 
1 Reprinted by permission of the Editor of the Catholic World. 


of Petit-Cap began to be known by the little temple which 
stood in its very heart. Meanwhile in the passing years, 
the springtime floods and the winter storms, and even the 
hand of time itself, began to tell upon the sturdy wooden 
frame of the good saint's shrine. The project of rebuild- 
ing it was first seriously entertained somewhere about 1660. 
A prosperous farmer of the village, named Etienne Lessard, 
made .a generous donation of land sufficient for the erection 
of a church, provided only that the work was begun at 
once. A discussion now arose as to the propriety of 
changing the site ; but the matter was finally decided and 
M. Vignal, a priest from Quebec, went down to Petit-Cap 
to bless the foundations. He was accompanied by M. d' 
Aillebout, Governor of New France, who went thither ex- 
pressly to lay the corner-stone. 

This second church, which remained in use till 1876, 
was built of stone and stood just at the foot of the hill, 
where the present chapel for processions now is. During 
the years following its erection multitudes of pilgrims flocked 

Amongst those whose interest in the welfare of the 
church and the propagation of the devotion have woven a 
halo round this village shrine is that immortal Bishop of 
Quebec he who coming of the ancient and knightly race, 
the Barms Montmorenc; de Laval, forsook the splendours 
of a luxurious court and the softness of a southern climate 
to devote his wonderful intellect to the service of the prim- 
itive Canadian Church. 

Rich gifts began to pour in and the attention of royalty 


itself was drawn to the spot ; for a gleam from the magnifi- 
cence of that traditionally splendid court of Louis le Grand 
fell upon that humble sanctuary hard by the blue stream, 
which still bore the Indian voyageur upon his way. It is 
part of the romance which antiquity has lent to the place, 
this offering made by the queen-mother of Louis XIV. 
Anne of Austria's own royal hands worked a handsome 
chasuble as a gift to the good St. Anne. The ornaments 
upon it are red, white and black arrows and the whole is 
richly wrought in gold and silver. Now, though that 
splendid pageant of a dream, that gorgeous phantom of a 
dead royalty, has passed into tradition, the vestment worked 
by the royal mother's hands is still seen at the altar of St. 
Anne's upon great occasions. 

A costly silver reliquary adorned with precious stones and 
two pictures painted by the Franciscan friar, Luc Lafran- 
cois, are the gifts of Mgr. de Laval ; while there is a cru- 
cifix of solid silver presented by the hero of Iberville in 1706 
in return for favours obtained. So does the past intermin- 
gle everywhere with the present, and such tokens speak like 
the voices of the dead, giving testimony of answered 
prayers. Kneeling there before that beloved mother of the 
Mother of Christ, we can see in fancy, as humble suppli- 
ants by our side, the great and good prelate whose name 
shines out from the early Canadian annals with an unsur- 
passed lustre, or the valiant soldiers, proud and warlike 
viceroys, gay and gallant barons of France, who have bent 
the knee here, humble, believing, hopeful as the poor fisher 
whose boat rocked the while upon the surging waters with- 


out. In 1875, a magnificent banner, seven feet and a half 
high by four and a half broad, was presented to the Cure 
by his Excellency Lieutenant-Governor Caron, of Quebec. 
On one side of it is St. Anne teaching the Blessed Virgin, 
the two figures encircled by a silver shower. Above and 
below is inscribed : " St. Anne, Consolation of the Afflicted, 
pray for us." The reverse of the banner represents St. 
Joachim as a pilgrim, proceeding to the temple with his 
simple gift of two white doves. The work thereupon was 
done by the Sisters of Charity. 

The walls and sanctuary are fairly covered with crutches, 
hearts of gold and silver, and the like, each one telling of 
a belief in some cure obtained, or petition heard. 

The year of 1876, the year of the building of the new 
church was crowned by a rescript of His Holiness Pius IX., 
bearing date the 7th of May, by which he declared St. Anne 
patroness of the Province of Quebec, as long ago St. Joseph 
had been declared patron of all Canada. 

The interior of the church is adorned with eight altars, 
the high altar being the gift of his Grace Mgr. Taschereau, 
of Quebec ; the Blessed Virgin's, that of the Bishop of 
Montreal ; one to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, that of the 
Bishop of St. Hyacinth ; while St. Joseph is donated by the 
Bishop of Ottawa, the Holy Angels by the clerks of St. 

Two really beautiful stained windows which adorn the 
chancel are the gift of four parishioners. Various pictures 
upon the walls commemorate remarkable deliverances from 
shipwreck and the like. Such is Le Pere Pierre and the 


crew of the ship Saint Esprit making a vow to St. Annej 
or the King's vessel, Le Heros, on the point or foundering ; 
oryet another caught in the ice and saved through the inter- 
cession of St. Anne. Of the artistic excellence of many of 
these pictures we say nothing. 

Besides the relics of St. Anne, the Church of Beaupre 
can boast many others, such as the one of St. Francis 
Xavier, of St. Deodatus, St. Benedict, St. Valentine, St. 
Remi, St. Eulalie, St. Amantis, Pontianus, St. Caesarius, and 
others. The Rev. M. Gauvreau, Cure from 1875 to 1878, 
almost completely finished the exterior of the new church, 
In 1876, he likewise built a school chapel for the children 
of the neighbouring concessions. He also conceived the 
idea of building the Chapel of the Processions out of the 
material of the old church. It was consecrated October 
2, 1878, and is intended to perpetuate the ancient edifice, 
being erected after the same fashion and surmounted by the 
same bell-tower, whence the same sweet-toned voice calls 
the people to prayer that called the dead and gone genera- 
tions ago. Situated upon an eminence, and being used es- 
pecially when the concourse of pilgrims is very great, it is 
an imitation of the altar of the Scala Sancta at St. Anne d' 
Auray. There is a fountain just before the entrance to the 
new church, where crowds of pilgrims are seen using the 
water. It is surmounted by a statue of St. Anne. 

The one principal street of St. Anne's runs along the 
slope of a hUi which in the summer-time is thickly covered 
with fruit-laden trees. Canadian homesteads of comfort 
and of plenty line it on either side. The population con- 


sists of some hundred and fifty families, who, experiencing 
little of " life's " long and fitful fever," spin out their 
days in a primitive and rural simplicity which belonged to 
the golden epoch of la Nouvelle France. The traveller 
fresh from the restless bustle of a modern Babylon seems to 
find himself suddenly transported to some far-away Utopia 
of simple content which has slept for centuries an en- 
chanted sleep, and awakes isolated indeed from the Jugger- 
naut of progress. The handsome church, sole token of 
modern enterprise, arises like a new Aladdin's tower from 
amid the group of quaint, almost mediaeval dwellings. In 
the spring and summer-time St. Anne's awakes from a 
lethargy in which it has been plunged during the long 
winter, and, as the city of some Arabian Nights' tale, is 
suddenly aglow with life and animation. Pilgrims of every 
rank and condition of life fill its street ; matron and 
maiden, priest and layman, the young and the old, the 
grave and the gay, come thither, an eager but silent and 
recollected throng, to the feet of the good St. Anne. 
Prayers go up, hymns ring out on the still/ evening, or at 
tranquil morn, and the pilgrims take their homeward way, 
with a vision of the calm, restful loveliness of nature there 
in that favoured spot to haunt them for many days. They 
remember Nature at St. Anne's, with her dim and night- 
empurpled hills, amongst which linger the memories of 
hundreds of years, with her flowing sunlit streams, the 
waving of trees and grass, the dreamy village life, and 
above all a something indescribable. The chant and the 
organ-tone and the murmur of pilgrim voices fade into a 


distant memory, but the voyager down that sapphire stream, 
the St. Lawrence, to that hill-shadowed sanctuary, keeps 
for a life-time the impression of what he has seen and 



THE Wadsworth-Longfellow house was built in 1785- 
1786, by General Peleg Wadsworth, the grand- 
father of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. He was a native 
of Duxbury, a graduate of Harvard College, and a major- 
general in the army of the Revolution. 

According to the account of his daughter, Zilpah, General 
Wadworth's appearance, at this time, was as follows : 
" Imagine to yourself a man of middle age, well propor- 
tioned, with a military air, and who carried himself so truly 
that many thought him tall. His dress, a bright scarlet 
coat, buff small clothes and vest, full ruffled bosom, ruffles 
over the hands, white stockings, shoes with silver buckles, 
white cravat bow in front, hair well powdered and tied 
behind in a club, so-called." 

At first, the house was of two stories with a pitched roof 
and was the first house in Portland to have brick walls. 
The bricks came from Philadelphia to build these walls 
which are sixteen inches thick. The third story was not 
added until 1815. 

The poet's mother was about eight years old when her 
father built this house. In 1804, she was married to 
Stephen Longfellow, in the house which had been her 
home from childhood. Longfellow was born in anothe^ 


house in Portland, but at the early age of eight months he 
was brought by his parents to the Wadsworth House. 

Henry W. Longfellow lived here during his childhood, 
boyhood and young manhood, and here he came, to his old 
home, to the end of his life. Here were the scenes of his 
bringing up and here he profited by the examples and pre- 
cepts of his honoured parents. Here he wrote his first 
poem and others, together with portions of his prose works. 
It was really his home until the purchase of the 4 Craigie 
House,' at Cambridge, in 1843, a P er id f thirty-five 
years. The home remained with the old furnishings undis- 
turbed until the death of Mrs. Pierce. Longfellow's last 
visit here was in July, 1881, when he wrote to a friend in 
Rhode Island : 

" Portland has lost none of its charms. The weather is 
superb and the air equal to that of Newport or East Green- 
wich or any other Rhode Island seashore. I shall remain 
here a week or two longer, and think of running up to 
North Conway and to Sebago, to see the winding Songo 
once more. It is very pleasant sitting here and dictating 
letters. It is like thinking what one will say without 
taking the trouble of writing it. I have discovered a new 

The poems now known to have been written in this 
house are : 

The Battle of Lovell's Pond, 1820; Musings^ 1825,- 
The Spirit of Poetry, 1825; Burial of Minnisink, 1825; 
Song : When from the eye of day, 1826 ; Song of the 
Birds, 1826; The Lighthouse; The Rainy Day, 1841; 


Changed, 1858, and probably others. A portion of 
Hyperion was written here and, no doubt, much was out- 
lined in this house while staying here. 

The old house has sixteen rooms. It was the home of 
the \Vadsworth and Longfellow families for one hundred 
and fifteen years and is in a good state of preservation. It 
has no 

" Weather-stains upon the wall, 

And stairways worn, and crazy doors, 

And creaking and uneven floors." 

It was 

" Built in the old Colonial day, 
When men lived in a grander way, 
With ampler hospitality." 

It has eight open fireplaces, and in former times, during a 
year, over thirty cords of wood were burned in them. 
What a tale of bygone days they could tell ! 

The living or sitting-room has the same general appear- 
ance as when occupied by the Longfellows. For about 
ten years it was used by the father for a law office, and the 
poet, his brother Stephen, George W. Pierce and others 
studied law here. The vestibule or " Little Room " was 
added as an addition or entrance to the law office. His 
brother wrote of Longfellow : " In this room the young 
graduate scribbled many a sheet." After the removal of the 
office, about 1828, this room was changed into a china 
closet and the poet wrote his sister Elizabeth, from 
Gottingen, under date of March 29, 1829: "My poetic 
career is finished. Since I left America I have hardly put 
two lines together; . . . and no soft poetic ray 


has irradiated my heart since the Goths and Vandals 
crossed the Rubicon of the front entry and turned the 
sanctum sanctorum of the c Little Room,' into a china 

Back of the living-room is the kitchen with its broad 
fireplace, in which is the old iron back, on which is the 
fish "that forever bakes in effigy." This fireplace has 
never been closed, and the utensils and china seen here 
were used by these families in the poet's time and before. 
This room, being as of old, is one of the most interesting 
in the house. It tells its own story. 

On the opposite side of the front hall is the " Den " or 
the old dining-room, made especially famous by the fact 
that here, between the windows, looking out into the 
garden, on the same desk now standing there, was written 
"The Rainy Day" in 1841. From these windows the 
poet saw the flowering grapevine mentioned in the third 

" The vine still clings to the mouldering wall," 

which is living and is still to be seen there. The furniture 
on the first floor of the house, on exhibition, was theirs and 
was used by the family. 

The second story has four rooms, the " Mother's 
Room," the " Guest's Room," the " Children's Room " 
and Mrs. Pierce's old room. They contain a wonderful 
collection of the families' belongings for the inspection of 
the visitors interested. 

The third story, added in 1815, is reached by a well- 


worn stairway of especial interest from the fact that over 
these stairs climbed the Longfellow children to their bed- 
chambers where they were under the immediate charge of 
their aunt, Lucia Wadsworth. This floor has seven rooms. 
The room of rooms is the poet's boyhood one, in which he 
wrote " Musings " and "The Lighthouse." It is furnished 
with many of the articles of yore. " The Boys' Room," 
which, at times, has been occupied by all the Longfellow 
boys, looks out on the garden and the western sky. It 
contains the old trundle-bed and the writings of the children 
on the casing of the window, with many articles of much 
interest. The remaining rooms on this floor are used for 
exhibition purposes. From the front windows, in those 
days, could be seen the harbour, its islands, and Cape Eliza- 
beth ; from those in the rear, Back Cove, the fields and 
forests, back of which loomed up the White Mountains. 
It was a magnificent prospect. Longfellow wrote : 

" Happy he whom neither wealth nor fashion, 
Nor the march of the encroaching city, 

Drives an exile 
From the hearth of his ancestral homestead." 

On the window casing in the " Boys' Room " one of the 
children has inscribed, " How dear is the home of my 
childhood." The poet expressed his sentiments of the love 
of the old home in words that will never be stricken from 
our language : 

"Truly the love of home is interwoven with all that is 
pure and deep and lasting in earthly affections. Let us 
wander where we may, the heart looks back with secret 


Jongings to the paternal roof. There the scattered rays of 
affection concentrate. Time may enfeeble them, distance 
overshadow them, and the storms of life obstruct them for 
a season ; but they will at length break through the cloud 
and storm, and glow and burn and brighten around the 
peaceful threshold of home." 

The Wadsworth-Longfellow House came into the pos- 
session of the Maine Historical Society in 1901 by dona- 
tion from Anne Longfellow Pierce, a sister of the poet. 
She was born here in 1810 and died here in 1901. It is 
now practically a museum of Longfellow relics and attracts 
many visitors, no less than 30,000 having been admitted 
since it was opened to the public. 



THE old Hasbrook house, as it is called, situated on the 
west bank of the Hudson, a little south of the vil- 
lage of Newburgh, is one of the most interesting relics of 
the first and heroic age of our republic ; for at several 
periods of the War of the Revolution, and especially from 
the autumn of 1782 until the troops were finally disbanded, 
it was occupied by 'General Washington as the headquarters 
of the American army. The views from the house and 
grounds, as well as the whole neighbourhood around it, are 
rich alike in natural beauty and in historical remembrance. 
You look from the old house upon the broad bay into which 
the Hudson expands itself just before entering the deep, 
rocky bed through which it flows towards the ocean be- 
tween the lofty mountain-banks of the Highlands. On 
the opposite shore is seen the ridge of mountains, upon the 
bald, rocky summits of which during the war of 1776 the 
beacon fires so often blazed to alarm the country at the in- 
cursions of the enemy from the south, or else to communi- 
cate signals between the frontier posts in Westchester, 
along the line of the American positions at Verplanck's 
Point, West Point and the barracks and encampments on 
the plain of Fishkill. As these mountains recede eastward 


from the river, you see the romantic stream of Mattavoan 
winding wildly along their base, through glens and over 
falls, until, at last, as if fatigued with its wanton rambles, 
it mingles quietly and placidly with the Hudson. On this 
side of it are stretched the rich plains of Dutchess County, 
with their woody and picturesque shores. All along these 
plains and shores are to be found other memorials of the 
Revolution ; for there were the store-houses, barracks and 
hospitals of our army, and there, for many months, were the 
headquarters of the Father of American tactics, the discipli- 
narian Steuben. To the south, you look down upon the 
opening of the Highlands, and the rock of Pollopell's 
Island, once a military prison, and thence follow with your 
eye the " Great River of the Mountains " l till it turns 
suddenly and disappears around the rocky promontory of 
West Point a spot consecrated by the most exciting recol- 
lections of our history, by the story of Arnold's guilt and 
Andre's hapless fate and the incorruptible virtue of our 
yeomanry ; by the memory of the virtues of Kosciusko and 
Lafayette; of the wisdom and valour of our own chiefs 
and sages. 

The Hasbrook house itself is a solid, irregular building 
erected about 1734. The excellent landscape painted by 
Weir and engraved with equal spirit and fidelity by Smillie, 
will give the reader a better idea of its appearance and 
character than words can convey. The interior remains 
very nearly as Washington left it. The largest room is in 
the centre of the house, about twenty-four feet square, but 
1 The Indian name of the Hudson. 


so disproportionately low, as to appear very much larger^ 
It served the General during his residence there, in the day- 
time for his hall of reception and his dining-room where he 
regularly kept up a liberal, though plain hospitality. At 
night it was used as a bedroom for his aides-de-camp and 
occasional military visitors and guests. It was long memo- 
rable among the veterans who had seen the chief there for 
its huge wood fire built against the wall, in, or rather under 
a wide chimney, which was quite open at both sides. It was 
still more remarkable for the whimsical peculiarity of hav- 
ing seven doors and but one window. The unceiled roof 
of this room, with its massive painted beams, corresponds 
to the simplicity of the rest of the building, as well as 
shows the indifference of our ancestors to the free communi- 
cation of noise and cold air, which their wiser or more fas- 
tidious descendants take so much pains to avoid. On the 
north-east corner of the house, communicating with the 
large centre room, is a small chamber, which the General 
used as a study or private office. 

Those who have had the good fortune to enjoy the ac- 
quaintance of officers of the northern division of our old 
army, have heard many a Revolutionary anecdote, the 
scene of which was laid in the old square room at New- 
burgh, " with its seven doors and one window." In it 
were every day served up, to as many guests as the table 
and chairs could accommodate, a dinner and a supper, as 
plentiful as the country could supply and as good as they 
could be made by the continental cooks, whose deficiency 
in culinary skill drew forth in one of his private letters, the 


only piece of literary pleasantry, it is believed, in which the 
great man was ever tempted to indulge. But then, as we 
have heard old soldiers affirm with great emphasis, there 
was always plenty of good wine. French wines for our 
French allies and those who had acquired or who affected 
their tastes, and sound Madeira for the Americans of the 
old school, circulated briskly, and were taken in little silver 
mugs or goblets made in France for the General's camp- 
equipage. They were accompanied by the famous apples 
of the Hudson, the Spitzenbergh and other varieties and 
invariably by heaped plates of hickory nuts, the amazing 
consumption of which by the General and his staff, was the 
theme of boundless admiration to the Marquis de Chastel- 
leux and other French officers. The jest, the argument, 
the song and the story circulated as briskly as the wine ; 
while the chief at the head of his table, sat long, listened to 
all, or appeared to listen, smiled at and enjoyed all, but all 
gravely, without partaking much in the conversation, or at 
all contributing to the laugh, either by swelling its chorus, 
or furnishing the occasion ; for he was neither a joker nor 
a story-teller. He had no talent, and he knew he had 
none, for humour, repartee, or amusing anecdote ; and : f 
he had possessed it, he was too wise to have indulged in it 
in the position in which he was placed. 

One evidence among many others, of the impression 
which Washington's presence in this scene had made, and 
the dignity and permanence it could lend to everv idea or 
recollect ; on, however trivial otherwise, with which it had 
been accidentally associated, was given at Paris. The Amer- 


ican Minister (we forget whether it was Mr. Crawford, 
Mr. Brown, or one of their successors), and several of his 
countrymen, together with General Lafayette, were invited 
to an entertainment at the house of a distinguished and 
patriotic Frenchman, who had served his country in his 
youth, in the United States during the war of our independ- 
ence. At the supper hour the company were shown into 
a room fitted up for the occasion, which contrasted quite 
oddly with the Parisian elegance of the other apartments 
where they had spent their evening. A low, boarded, 
painted ceiling, with large beams, a single, small uncur- 
tained window, with numerous small doors, as well as the 
general style of the whole, gave at first the idea of the 
kitchen, or largest room of a Dutch or Belgian farm-house. 
On a long, rough table was a repast, just as little in keep- 
ing with the refined kitchen of Paris, as the room was with 
the architecture. It consisted of large dishes of meat, un- 
cooth-looking pastry, and wine in decanters and bottles, 
accompanied by glasses and silver mugs, such as indicated 
other habits and tastes than those of modern Paris. " Do 
you know where we are now ? " said the host to General 
Lafayette and his companions. They paused for a few 
moments in suspense. They had seen something like this 
before, but when and where ? "Ah, the seven doors and 
one window," said Lafayette, " and the silver camp-goblets, 
such as our marshals of France used in my youth ! We 
are at Washington's Head-quarters on the Hudson, fifty 
years ago ! " 

We relate the story as we have heard it told by the late 


Colonel Fish, and, if we mistake not, the host was the ex- 
cellent M, Marbois. 

There is another anecdote of a higher and more moral 
interest, the scene of which was also laid in this house. A 
British officer had been brought in from the river, a prisoner 
and wounded. Some accidental circumstance had attracted 
to him General Washington's special notice, who had him 
placed under the best medical and surgical care the army 
could afford, and ordered him to be lodged at his own 
quarters. There, according to custom, a large party of 
officers had assembled in the evening to sup with the 
commander-in-chief. When the meats and cloth were re- 
moved, the unfailing nuts appeared, and the wine, a luxury 
seldom seen by American subalterns, except at " his Excel- 
lency's " table, began to circulate. The General rose rr.uch 
before his usual hour, but, putting one of his aides-de-cam ~ 
in his place, requested his friends to remain, adding, in a 
gentle tone : u I have only to ask you to remember in your 
sociality, that there is a wounded officer in the very next 
room." This injunction had its effect for a short time, 
but, as the wine and punch passed around, the soldier's jest 
and mirth gradually broke forth, conversation warmed into 
argument, and, by-an-by, came a song. In the midst of all 
this, a side-door opened, and some one entered in silence 
and on tiptoe. It was the General. Without a word to 
any of the company, he passed silently along the table, with 
almost noiseless tread to the opposite door which he opened 
and closed after him as gently and cautiously as a nurse in 
the sick room of a tender and beloved patient. The song, 


the story, the merriment died away at once. All were 
hushed. All felt the rebuke, and dropped off quietly, one 
by one, to their chambers or tents. 

But the Newburgh Head-quarters are also memorable as 
the scene of a far more important transaction. 

In the autumn of 1783, the war had closed with glory. 
The national independence had been won. The army, 
who had fought the battles, who had gone through the 
hardships and privations of that long and doubtful and 
bloody war without a murmur, were encamped on the banks 
of the Hudson, unpaid, almost unclothed, individually loaded 
with private debt, awaiting to be disbanded, and to return 
to the pursuits of civil life, without the prospect of any set- 
tlement of their long arrears of pay and without the means 
of temporary support until other prospects might open upon 
them in their new avocations. It was under these circum- 
stances, while Congress, from the impotence of our frame 
of government under the old confederation, and the ex- 
treme poverty of the country, found themselves utterly un- 
able to advance even a single month's pay, and, as if loth to 
meet the question, seemed but to delay and procrastinate 
any decision upon it ; the impatient and suffering soldiery, 
losing, as their military excitement died away with its cause, 
all feeling of loyalty towards their civil rulers, began to re- 
gard them as cold-hearted and ungrateful masters who 
sought to avoid the scanty and stipulated payment of those 
services, the abundant fruits of which they had already 
reaped. Then it was that the celebrated anonymous New- 
burgh letters were circulated through the camp, touching 


with powerful effect upon every topic that could rouse the 
feelings of men suffering under the sense of wrong and 
sensitive to every stain upon their honour. The glowing 
language of this address painted their country as trampling 
upon their rights, disdaining their cries and insulting their 

The power of this appeal did not consist merely in its 
animated and polished eloquence. It was far more power- 
ful, and, therefore, more dangerous, because it came warm 
from the heart and did but give bold utterance to the 
thoughts over which thousands had long brooded in silence. 
Precisely that state of feeling pervaded the whole army, that 
discontent towards their civil rulers, verging every hour 
more and more towards indignation and hatred, that despair 
of justice from any other means or quarter than themselves 
and their own good swords, that rallying of all their hopes 
and affections to their comrades in arms and their long-tried 
chief, such as in other countries have again and again en- 
throned the successful military leader upon the ruins of the 
Republic he had gloriously served. 

The disinterested patriotism of Washington rejected the 
lure to his ambition, his firm and mild prudence repressed 
the discontents and preserved the honour of the army, as 
well as the peace, and, probably, the future liberties of his 
country. It was the triumph of patriotic wisdom over the 
sense of injury, over misapplied genius and eloquence, over 
chivalrous, but ill-directed feeiing. The opinions and the 
arguments of Washington, expressed in his orders and in 
the address delivered by him to his officers, calmed the 


minds of the army and brought them at once to a sense of 
submissive duty j not solely from the weight of moral truth 
and noble sentiment, great as that was, but because they 
came from a person whom the army had long accustomed 
to love, to revere and to obey ; the purity of whose views, 
the soundness of whose judgment and the sincerity of whose 
friendship, no man could dream of questioning. Shortly 
after, the army disbanded itself. The veterans laid down 
their swords in peace, trusting to the faith and gratitude of 
their country, leaving the honour of the " Continental 
Army " unstained and the holy cause of liberty unsullied 
by any one act of rebellious, or ambitious, or selfish insub- 
ordination. They fulfilled the prophetic language of their 
chief, when, in the closing words of his address on this 
memorable occasion, he expressed his sure confidence that 
their patient virtue, rising superior to the pressure of the 
most complicated sufferings, would enable " posterity to say, 
when speaking of the glorious example they had exhibited 
to mankind, had this day been wanting, the world had never 
seen the last stage of perfection to which human nature is 
capable of attaining." 

Why should we dilate here on the particulars of this 
transaction ? They form the brightest page in our history, 
the noblest theme of our orators ; but no eloquence can in- 
crease the interest and dignity of the narrative, as told in 
the plain language of Marshall and in the orders and address 
of Washington himself. 

Let it suffice for us to fulfil faithfully the humbler task 
of the local antiquary, which we have here undertaken to 


perform. When any of our readers visit this scene, they 
will feel grateful to us for informing them that it was in the 
little northeastern room of the " old stone house " at New- 
burgh, that Washington meditated on this momentous ques- 
tion and prepared the general orders to the army and the 
address which he read with such happy effect to the mili- 
tary convention that assembled on his invitation, on the I5th 
of October, 1783, at a large barrack or storehouse, then 
called " the new building," in the immediate neighbour- 

It was but a few days after this, that, upon the lawn be- 
fore the house, Washington finally parted with that portion 
of his army which did not accompany him to take posses- 
sion of New York. He parted with his faithful comrades 
with a deep emotion that contrasted strongly with the cold 
and calm serenity of manner which had distinguished him 
throughout the whole seven years of the war. 



THERE are few passengers on board the train as we 
steam through the suburban districts of Mormonland. 
The magnificent chain of the Wahsatch Mountains rising 
in the east and the great Salt Lake stretching away towards 
the west, the rest of the scene made up of fertile lands, 
green meadows, fields of yellow corn and purple clover, 
form an enchanting panorama as we fly past them ; we are 
full of an undefined curiosity and anxious to see this City 
of the Saints of which we have heard so much. 

We reach the City of the Saints at last, and find it as fair 
and beautiful as we had expected. It is in truth an oasis 
in a desert, a blooming garden in a wilderness of green. 
We can scarcely conceive how this flowery world has 
lifted itself from the heart of desolation ; it is only one 
more proof that the intellect and industry of man can mas- 
ter the mysteries of nature, and force her in her most harsh 
uncompromising moods to bring forth fair fruits. It lies in 
a deep wide valley, bounded on the east by the mighty 
range of the Wahsatch Mountains, which lift their rugged 
stony feet stretching away and reaching towards the west, 
where the great Salt Lake unrolls its dark waters, and 
widens and wanders away until it is lost in the distance. 
The streets are wide, the houses of all sorts and sizes, 
some one-story high, some two or even three, all built in 


different styles, or no style of architecture ; each man hav- 
ing built his dwelling in accordance with his own taste, or 
convenience. The' streets are all arranged in long straight 
rows, and stretch away till they seem to crawl up the moun- 
tain-sides and then are lost. On either side of the road- 
ways are magnificent forest-trees, which in summer-time 
must form a most delightful shade, though now it is au- 
tumn and the leaves are falling fast. Streams of water 
with their pleasant gurgling music flow on either side, 
through a deep cutting (which we should irreverently call 
the gutter), rushing along as though they were in a hurry 
to reach some everlasting sea. The women come out with 
their buckets and help themselves, while the children sail 
their toy boats, clapping their hands gleefully as the tiny 
craft is tossed and tumbled and borne along on the face of 
the bubbling water. Street-cars come crawling along the 
straight streets, crossing and re-crossing each other at dif- 
ferent points ; but a private cab or carriage is rarely to be 
seen. Every house, be it only composed of a single room, 
is surrounded by a plot of garden ground, where fruits, 
flowers and vegetables all grow together in loving com- 
panionship. Everything seems flourishing, and everybody 
seems well-to-do ; there are no signs of poverty anywhere ; 
no bare-footed whining beggars fill the streets ; tramps 
there may be, passing from one part of the State to another, 
but these are all decently dressed and well fed, for at what- 
ever door they knock, they are sure to find food and shelter, 
charity to those in need being a part of the reigning relig- 


The far-famed tabernacle strikes one as a huge mon- 
strosity, a tumour of bricks and mortar rising on the face of 
the earth. It is a perfectly plain egg-shaped building, 
studded with heavy entrance doors all around; there is not 
the slightest attempt at ornamentation of any kind ; it is a 
mass of ugliness ; the inside is vast, dreary, and strikes 
one with a chill, as though entering a vault ; it is 250 feet 
long and 80 feet high ; its acoustic properties are wonderful 
the voice of him who occupies the rostrum can be dis- 
tinctly heard in the remotest corner of the building. If you 
whisper at one end your words are repeated aloud at the 
other, without being caught up and hunted through every 
crevice by ghostly mocking echoes. A gallery runs all 
around, supported by rows of thin, helpless-looking pillars. 
The seats in the body of the building are raised on sloping 
ground, like the pit of a theatre, a wide expanse of empty 
benches, dreary and depressing to the wandering eye, which 
finds no pleasant spot to dwell upon. In the centre stands 
a fountain with four plaster-of-Paris lions couchant, poor, 
mangy-looking beasts at best. From the white plastered 
ceiling or dome, being concave perhaps it may be called so, 
hangs a gigantic star, hung round with artificial flowers 
and evergreen pendants, something like a monstrous jack- 
m-the-green turned upside down. The whole interior is 
gloomy and dark ; I doubt if people could ever see to read 
their prayers. At one end of this huge barn-like building 
hangs an immense blue banner emblazoned with a golden 
beehive, which flaunts over the heads of the faithful. At 
the other end stands an organ, the largest in the world they 


say, and it may be so, for it is certainly immense. They 
are justly proud of it, for it is of home manufacture en- 
tirely, and was built precisely where it stands, under the 
supervision of an English convert named Ridges, and con- 
tains upwards of a thousand pipes, some of such a circum- 
ference you feel as though you could wander up and down 
them, and be lost in a world of music. Notwithstanding 
its immense size, it has not a single harsh or metallic 
sound ; on the contrary, it is marvellously soft-toned ; from 
the low flute-like wailing voice of the vox humana to the 
deep bass roll which stirs the air like a wave of melodious 
thunder, it has all the delicacy of the jEolian harp, with the 
strength and power of its thousand brazen voices. The 
case is of polished pine of elegant and simple design. All 
wood, metal and other material used was brought from the 
forest or mines of Utah. 

Sloping down from the organ towards the auditorium are 
semicircular rows of seats, for the elders and dignitaries of 
the Church. In the centre is a desk with a shabby blue 
sofa behind it ; this was used by Brigham Young and his 
two chief councillors. Below this are the seats for the 
twelve apostles and for the choir and benches where the 
elders may congregate to consult together. In front of all 
this combination stands a long narrow table, an altar per- 
haps it may be called, covered with a red cloth, whereon is 
arranged a -gorgeous array of silver cups, of all shapes and 
sizes, as though prepared for an unlimited christening party 
or an everlasting service libation to some heathen deity 
rather than to a Christian God, 


Passing out from the tabernacle, we glanced at the En- 
dowment House, where many of their religious ceremonies 
are performed, and where, if rumour speaks truly, gross 
licentiousness is carried on under the sanction of the 
Church where some ugly secrets and mysteries lie hidden, 
of which no one can speak and live. Across the road 
stands the president's office, and next to that the " Beehive 
House " of Brigham Young notoriety. It is a long low- 
roofed, adobe building, railed in, a desolate-looking place 
where, in old days, some dozens of his wives were domi- 
ciled ; it is now occupied by his wives some of them. 
A high stone wall filled in with adobe encloses the presi- 
dent's residence and many other buildings, with arched 
gateways and heavy wooden gates; there is a double arch- 
way lead'ng to some factories and stables, surmounted by a 
beehive in the grip of a monstrous eagle an illustration of 
the Mormon faith in the cruel clutch of the Stars and 
Stripes. Close by is the school-house, first erected for the 
sole education of Brigham Young's family, which was large 
enough to fill it ; it is now devoted to the benefit of the 
masses. The whole of these buildings are crowded to- 
gether, and are generally surrounded by a high wall, which 
gives them a gloomy appearance, suggestive of an Eastern 



" Yonder shaft, 

Which States and peoples piled the stones 
That from its top the very winds might waft upon, 
To distant shores, the name of Washington." 

THE most interesting fact connected with the Monu- 
ment is, that it stands on the site where Washington 
supposed he was to be commemorated. In 1783, Congress 
passed resolutions directing the Minister at Versailles to 
secure the services of the best artist in Europe, for the 
preparation of a statue of Washington, "to be erected 
at the place where the residence of Congress shall be 

The Commissioners who planned the Federal City, set 
apart the place where the Monument now stands, as the 
site for this statue; and their report with this provision, 
was communicated by Washington to Congress. It has 
been said that the statue by Houdon, in Virginia, was from 
the cast which Jefferson, then Minister to France, procured, 
with reference to fulfilling this resolution of Congress ; but 
the statue never appears to have been ordered, probably for 
want of funds. Like many other acts of the Continental 
Congress, it was probably delayed in its execution by the 
uncertainty which existed about a Seat of Government, as 
well as the embarrassments incident to a government just 




emerging from a war, and dependent for all its resources on 
the action of the States. 

In 1799, Congress directed President Adams to corre- 
spond with Mrs. Washington, and ask her consent to the 
interment of the remains of her illustrious husband, under a 
monument to be erected by the United States in the Capitol 
at the City of Washington. Mrs. Washington gave her 
assent in the following letter : 

" Taught by the great example I have so long had before 
me never to oppose my private wishes to the public will, I 
must consent to the request of Congress which you have 
had the goodness to transmit to me ; and, in doing this, I 
need not, I cannot, say what a sacrifice of individual feeling 
I make to a sense of public duty." 

But the monument was not erected, and the remains, 
therefore, were not removed from Mount Vernon. 

In 1816, the subject was revived in a report by Mr. 
Huger, of South Carolina, from a joint committee for a 
public monument and the removal of the remains, but 
nothing was done. In February of the same year the legis- 
lature of Virginia authorized Governor Nicholas to apply 
to Judge Bushrod Washington, then proprietor of Mount 
Vernon, for leave to remove the remains of General and 
Mrs. Washington from Mount Vernon to Richmond, to 
be placed under the monument proposed to be erected to 
the honour of Washington, at the capital of the State. 
Judge Washington declined, and, among other reasons 
stated the following : 

" But obligations more sacred than anything which con- 


cerns myself obligations with which I cannot dispense 
command me to retain the mortal remains of my venerated 
uncle in the family vault where they are deposited. It is 
bis own will, and that will is to me a law which I dare not 
disobey. He has himself directed his body should be placed 
there, and I cannot separate it from those of his near rela- 
tives, by which it is surrounded." 

Mr. John A. Washington declined on a similar ground, 
a proposition made by Congress in 1832, to remove the re- 
mains of General and Mrs. Washington to a vault under 
the rotunda of the Capitol. 

On the 26th of September, 1833, a number of citizens 
of Washington digested a plan for the erection of a monu- 
ment which, in the language subsequently used by Mr. 
Winthrop, should " bespeak the gratitude, not only of the 
State, or of cities, or of Governments, not of separate 
communities, or of official bodies ; but of the people, the 
whoie people of the nation : a national monument erected 
by the citizens of the United States of America." 

At first the plan was to raise the funds by dollar sub- 
scriptions; but the whole collection amounted to only 
$28,000, when, owing to the financial embarrassments of 
the country, the collections were suspended. But the 
amount on hand was invested, and the interest regularly 
re-invested, so that it had increased to $40,000 when the 
new collection was begun in 1846. 

As to the design, it is not easy to say what would have 
suited the public at large, and satisfied to a reasonable de- 
gree the critics. For our own part we should have thought 


that something might have been designed more particularly 
expressive of its object and more American in its details, 
less of a mere imitation of the ancients, something which 
would have embodied in it the trees and products peculiar 
to our country, something a little less like a second edition 
of Bunker Hill Monument, and which could present in- 
ternal as well as outward attractions. 

The obelisk presents some decided advantages 
First : It is of all monuments the strongest and most 
enduring, next to that of the pyramid. In 1800, when the 
question in Congress was between adopting the statue of 
1783, or a mausoleum in pyramidal form, it was stated in 
debate, without any concert whatever, a remarkable con- 
currence had taken place between West, Trumbull and 
other respectable artists, who gave an unequivocal prefer- 
ence to a mausoleum. A mausoleum would last for ages, 
and would present the same imperishable appearance two 
thousand years hence that it would now ; whereas a statue 
would only remain until some civil convulsion, or foreign 
invasion, or flagitious conqueror, or lawless mob should 
dash it into atoms, or until some invading barbarian should 
transport it as a trophy of his guilt to a foreign shore. 
Besides, a statue was minute, trivial, perishable. It was a 
monument erected to all that crowd of estimable but sub- 
ordinate personages that soar in a region elevated indeed 
above common characters, but which was infinitely below 
that of Washington. At that session, after a long discus- 
sion, a bill passed one House for the erection of a " mauso- 
leum of American granite and marble in a pyramidal 


form, 100 feet square at the base and of a proportional 

Secondly : It is like the Government and character of 
Washington, simple and majestic, with no attempt at orna- 
ment. It cannot well be spoiled in building, or by bad 
sculpture. We could not hope to rival the magnificent 
productions of the Old World in structure, however credit- 
able the works of our artists may have been in one or two 

Thirdly : It excels all others in one respect, that of 

NOTE. The work was begun in 1858 and finished in 1885. The 
original designs were by Robert Mills and the total cost reached the sum 
of $1,187,710.31. In 1878, it was noticed that the foundations were not 
secure, and deep excavations were made around the base to strengthen 
the obelisk which had by that time reached the height of 156 feet. The 
area of the foundation was enlarged from 6400 to 16,000 feet. The 
National Washington Monument has a total height of 555 feet 5*4 inches, 
higher than St. Paul's, London (404 feet), St. Peter's, Rome (434^ feet), 
the Strasburg Cathedral (495 feet) and the Cologne Cathedral (514 feet). 
It is 231 feet higher than Bartholdi Statue of Liberty in the harbour of 
New York. E. S. 


IN 1778, the City of Boston placed a tablet on the walls 
of Christ Church, Boston, which reads : " The signal 
lanterns of Paul Revere displayed in the steeples of this 
church, April 18, 1775, warned the country of the march 
of the British troops to Lexington and Concord." 

Important as the " midnight ride of Paul Revere " was, 
it owes its chief fame to Longfellow, who made it the sub- 
ject of a story in The Tales of a Wayside Inn, written in 
1863. The Landlord begins : 

" Listen my children and you shall hear 
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere 
In the Eighteenth of April, Seventy-five ; 
Hardly a man is now alive 
Who remembers that famous day and year. 

" He said to his friend, ' If the British march 
By land or sea from the town to-night, 
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch 
Of the North Church tower as a signal light, 
One, if by land, and two, if by sea ; 
And I on the opposite shore will be, 
Ready to ride and spread the alarm 
Through every Middlesex village and farm, 
For the country folk to be up and to arm.' 
Then he said Good-night ! ' and with muffled oar 
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore, 
Just as the moon rose over the bay, 
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay 
The Somerset, British man-of-war ; 
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar 
Across the moon like a prison bar, 


And a huge black hulk, that was magnified 
By its own reflection in the tide. 

Meanwhile his friend, through alley and street^ 
Wanders and watches with eager ears, 
Till in the silence around him he hears 
The muster of men at the barrack door, 
The sound of arms and the tramp of feet, 
And the measured tread of the grenadiers, 
Marching down to their boats on the shore. 

Meanwhile impatient to mount and ride, 
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride, 
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere. 
Now he patted his horse's side, 
Now gazed at the landscape far and near, 
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth, 
And turned and tightened his saddle-girth; 
But mostly he watched with eager search 
The belfry-tower of the Old North Church, 
As it rose above the graves on the hill , 
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still. 
And lo ! as he looks, on the belfry's height 
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light ! 
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns, 
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight, 
A second lamp in the belfry burns ! 

A hurry of hoofs in a village street, 

A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark, 

And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark 

Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet : 

That was all ! And yet, through the gloom and the lights 

The fate of a nation was riding that night ; 

And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight 

Kindled the land into fame with its heat. 

It was one by the village clock 
When he galloped into Lexington. 
He saw the gilded weathercock 


Swim in the moonlight as he passed, 

And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare, 

Gaze at him with a spectral glare, 

As if they already stood aghast 

At the bloody work they would look upon. 

" So through the night rode Paul Revere ; 
And so through the night went his cry of alarm 
To every Middlesex village and farm, 
A cry of defiance and not of fear, 
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door. 
And a word that shall echo forevermore ! 
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past, 
Through all our history, to the last, 
In the hour of darkness and peril and need, 
The people will waken and listen to hear 
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed 
And the midnight message of Paul Revere." 

Closely associated with this ride is the old house known 
as the Clarke-Hancock House and now owned by the 
Lexington Historical Society. On the night of Paul 
Revere's ride, two of the leaders of the American causfc 
were sleeping quietly there, John Hancock and Samuel 
Adams, upon whose heads a price had been set. They 
were attending the daily sessions of the Provincial Congress 
in Concord and returned every night to Lexington where 
they lodged in the home of the Rev. Jonas Clarke, who 
had married a niece of Hancock's. Another inmate of the 
house at this time was Hancock's betrothed bride, Dorothy 
Quincy, whom he married in the following year. It was 
very important that Hancock and Adams should be kept 
informed of the progress of events in Boston, and Paul 
Revere, then a man of forty, was a regularly employed and 


paid messenger from the patriots of Boston to them. 
Revere, an engraver and silversmith, was one of the " Sons 
of Liberty," a society composed largely of artisans and 
workmen ; and, moreover, he was one of a company who 
patrolled the streets of Boston to watch the movements of 
British soldiers and Tories. 

Revere's own account of this ride, written about 1783 
and published in an early number of the Massachusetts His- 
torical Society's publications, reads : 

" About ten o'clock, Dr. Warren sent in great haste for 
me, and begged that I would immediately set off for 
Lexington, where Messrs. Hancock and Adams were, and 
acquaint them of the movement, and that it was thought 
they were the objects. When I got to Dr. Warren's 
house, I found he had sent an express by land to Lexington 
a Mr. William Dawes. The Sunday before, by desire 
of Dr. Warren, I had been to Lexington, to Messrs. 
Hancock and Adams, who were at the Rev, Mr. Clarke's, 
I returned at night through Charlestown ; there I agreed 
with a Colonel Conant and some other gentlemen, that if 
the British went out by water, we would show two Ian- 
thorns m the North Church steeple j and if by land, one 
as a signal ; for we were apprehensive it would be difficult 
to cross the Charles River, or get over Boston Neck. I 
left Dr. Warren, called upon a friend, and desired him to 
make the signals, I then went home, took my boots and 
surtout, went to the north part of the town, where I kept a 
boat ; two friends rowed me across Charles River a little to 
the eastward, where the Somerset man-of-war lay. It was 


then young flood, the ship was winding and the moon 
rising. They landed me on the Charlestown side. When 
I got into town, I met Colonel Conant and several others ; 
they said they had seen our signals. I told them what was 
acting, and went to get me a horse ; I got a horse of 
Deacon Larkin." 

Revere went directly to the Clarke house. His narrative 
continues : 

" After I had been there for about an hour Mr. Dawes 
came ; we refreshed ourselves, and set off for Concord, to 
secure the stores, etc., there. We were overtaken by a 
young Dr. Prescott, whom we found to be a high Son of 
Liberty. I told them of the ten officers that Mr. Devens 
met, and that it was probable we might be stopped before 
we got to Concord ; for I supposed that after that night, 
they divided themselves, and that two of them had fixed 
themselves in such passages as were most likely to stop any 
intelligence going to Concord. I likewise mentioned that 
we had better alarm all the inhabitants till we got to Con- 
cord ; the young Doctor much approved of it, and said he 
would stop with either of us, for the people between that 
and Concord knew him, and would give the more credit to 
what we said. We had got nearly half-way ; Mr. Dawes 
and the Doctor stopped to alarm the people of a house ; I 
was about one hundred yards ahead, when I saw two men, 
in nearly the same situation as those officers were near 
Charlestown. I called for the Doctor and Mr. Dawes to 
come up ; in an instant I was surrounded by four ; they had 
placed themselves in a straight road, that inclined each way; 


they had taken down a pair of bars on the north side of the 
road, and two of them were under a tree in the pasture. 
The Doctor being foremost, he came up ; and we tried to 
get past them ; but they being armed with pistols and 
swords, they forced us into the pasture; the Doctor 
jumped his horse over a low stone-wall, and got to 

" I observed a wood at a small distance, and made for 
that. When I got there, out started six officers on horse- 
back and ordered me to dismount. One of them, who 
appeared to have the command, examined me, where I came 
from and what my name was. I told him. He asked me 
if I was an express ? I answered in the affirmative. He 
demanded what time I left Boston ? I told him ; and 
added that their troops had catched aground in passing the 
river and that there would be five hundred Americans 
there in a short time, for I had alarmed the country all the 
way up." 

Revere was ordered to mount his horse, and was led by 
the soldiers back to Lexington ; but when they arrived near 
the meeting-house, " the militia fired a volley of guns, 
which appeared to alarm them very much." The officers 
rode off with Revere's horse and he hurried back to Mr. 
Clarke's house, where he related his adventures. It was 
then decided that Hancock and Adams had better leave 
Lexington, and so they, with Dorothy Quincy, accompanied 
by Hancock's secretary, Lowell, and Paul Revere, went to 
Woburn. Revere and Lowell returned to Lexington, to 


" find what was going on." The former tells us that on 
reaching the town : 

" Mr. Lowell asked me to go to the tavern with him to 
get a trunk of papers belonging to Mr. Hancock. We went 
up chamber, and while we were getting the trunk, we saw 
the British very near, upon a full march. We hurried 
towards Mr. Clarke's house. In our way, we passed 
through the militia. They were about fifty. When we had 
got about one hundred yards from the meeting-house, the 
British troops appeared on both sides of the meeting-house. 
They made a short halt ; when I saw and heard a gun fired, 
which appeared to be a pistol. Then I could distinguish 
two guns, and then a continued roar of musketry ; when we 
made off with the trunk." 

A concise and interesting version of this story is thus 
told by Thomas Wentworth Higginson : 

" When on the night of the i8th April, 1775, Paul 
Revere rode beneath the bright moonlight through Lexing- 
ton to Concord with Dawes and Prescott for comrades, he 
was carrying the signal for the independence of a nation. 
He had seen across the Charles River the two lights from 
the church steeple in Boston which were to show that a 
British force was going out to seize the patriotic supplies 
at Concord : he had warned Hancock and Adams at Rev 
Jonas Clarke's parsonage in Lexington, and had rejected 
Sergeant Monroe's caution against unnecessary noise, with 
the rejoinder : 4 You'll have noise enough here before long 
the regulars are coming out.' As he galloped on his way 


the regulars were advancing with steady step behind him, 
soon warned of their own danger by alarm-bells and signal 
guns. By the time Revere was captured by some British 
officers who happened to be near Concord, Colonel Smith, 
the commander of the expedition, halted, ordered Pitcairn 
forward, and sent back prudently for re -enforcements. It 
was a night of terror to all the neighbouring Middlesex 
towns, for no one knew what excesses the angry British 
troops might commit on their return march. . . . 

" Before 5 A. M., on April 19, 1775, the British troops had 
reached Lexington Green, where thirty-eight men, under 
Captain Parker, stood up before 600 or 800 to be shot at, 
their captain saying : c Don't fire unless you are fired on ; 
but if they want a war, let it begin here.' It began there ; 
they were fired upon ; they fired rather ineffectually in re- 
turn, while seven were killed and nine wounded. The rest, 
after retreating, re-formed and pursued the British towards 
Concord, capturing seven stragglers the first prisoners 
taken in the war. Then followed the fight at Concord, 
where 450 Americans instead of 38, were rallied to meet 
the British. The fighting took place between two detach- 
ments at the North Bridge, where 

" ' Once the embattled farmers stood 
And fired the shot heard round the world.' " 

The old house, which witnessed such exciting scenes, 
stands not far from the village green of Lexington. It is 
known as the Clarke-Hancock House, and was built by 
Thomas Hancock, the rich Boston merchant, in 1740, pre- 


sumably for his father " Bishop " Hancock, who dwelt there. 
The following description is by Samuel Adams Drake : 

" The house belongs certainly to two, and perhaps to 
three, periods. It is composed of a main building in the 
plain, substantial style of the last (Eighteenth) Century, and 
of a more antiquated structure standing at right angles to 
it. The first confronts you, if you have come down the 
road from the Common ; the last faces the street from which 
the whole structure stands back a little distance, with a 
space of green turf between. A large willow is growing in 
front of the main house, and on the verge of the grass-plot 
stands an elm, its branches interlacing those of a fellow-tree 
on the other side the way, so as to form a triumphal arch 
under which no patriot should fail to pass. We have 
christened the twain Hancock and Adams. The one is 
sturdy, far reaching and comprehensive ; the other, grace- 
ful, supple, but of lesser breadth. About the house flourish 
lilacs, syringas and the common floral adjuncts of a New 
England home. . . . 

" The room occupied by c King ' Hancock and ' Citizen ' 
Adams is the one on the lowei floor on the left of the en- 
trance. Care has been taken to preserve its original ap- 

" The woodwork of Southern pine has remained un- 
painted, acquiring with age a beautiful colour. One side 
of the room is wainscoted up to the ceiling, the remaining 
walls bearing the original paper in large figures. The stair- 
case in the front hall has also remained innocent of paint 
and is handsome enough for a church. Age has given tc 


the carved balusters and panelled casings a richness and 
depth of hue that scorns the application of any unnatural 
pigment. The room we have just left Is n the southwest 
corner of the house. Passing to the opposite side of the 
hall we enter the best room, which corresponds in finish 
with that just described, except that the painter's brush has 
been applied to the wainscot and newer paper to the 
walls. . . . 

" The best room communicates with the ancient or original 
house, which is seen fronting the street with its single story 
and picturesque dormer windows and roof. This part was 
doubtless built by the bishop's parishioners soon after his 
settlement. It formerly stood nearer the high-road until 
the new building was completed, when it was moved back 
and joined upon it. The house is a veritable curiosity and 
would not make a bad depository for the household furni- 
ture and utensils of the period to which it belongs, being 
of itself so unique a specimen of early New England archi- 
tecture. The floors and wainscot are of hard wood, upon 
which time has left not the least evidence of decay. The 
farmers clearly meant their minister to inhabit a house of a 
better sort than their own, as is apparent in the curious pan- 
elling of the outer door, which still retains its original fas- 
tenings, and in the folding shutters of the little study at the 
back. A cramped and narrow staircase conducts to the 
chambers above, from the room in which we are standing. 
The same old dresser is attached to the wall, garnished of 
yore by the wooden trenchers and scanty blue china of the 
good bishop's housekeeping. Some old three-legged tables 


are the only relics of the formei inhabitants. This one 
room according to the custom of the times, served as 
kitchen, dining-room and for the usual avocations of the 
family. The little study has the narrow windows which 
first admitted light upon the ponderous folios of the minis- 
ter, or the half-written sheets of many a weighty sermon." 


J. M. LE MOINE, F, R. S. C. 

" Such dusky grandeur clothed the height 
Where the huge castle holds its state, 

And all the steep slope, down 
Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky, 
Piled deep and massy, close and high, 
Mine own romantic town." 


IN describing the antique castle, several writers have 
mixed up dates and incidents referring to the Fort St. 
Louis begun in 1620, with those relating to the Chateau 
St. Louis, which, after several changes and transformations, 
assumed that name only in 1647, under Governor de Mont- 
magny. Hawkins is quite correct in saying that : " The 
Castle of St. Louis was in early times rather a stronghold 
of defence than an embellished ornament of royalty. Seated 
on a tremendous precipice : 

" On a rock whose haughty brow 
Frown'd o'er St. Lawrence's foaming tide," 

and looking defiance to the utmost boldness of the assail- 
ant, nature lent her aid to the security of the position. The 
cliff on which it stood rises nearly two hundred feet in per- 
pendicular height above the river. The castle thus com- 
manded on every side a most extensive prospect, and until 
the occupation of the higher ground to the southwest, after- 
wards called Cape Diamond, must have been the principal 
object among the buildings of the city. 


" When Champlain first laid the foundation of the Fort, 
in 1620, to which he gave the name of St. Louis, it is evi- 
dent he was actuated by views of a political, not of a com- 
mercial character. His mind was in better keeping with 
warlike enterprises than the acquirement of wealth. He 
was perfectly disinterested in all his proceedings. Fore- 
seeing that Quebec would become the seat of dominion 
and invite a struggle for its future possession, he knew the 
necessity of a stronghold, and determined to erect one in 
opposition to the wishes of the Company of Merchants." 
The building was commenced in July, 1620. 

Champlain, at first, styled his fort " demeure, corps-de- 
logis " that is, a dwelling-place. In 1621, he put in charge 
of it, one M. Du Mai, with a few men. In 1622, he 
pushed on the work, " insisting on the importance of com- 
pleting it, having it equipped with an armament, stores and 
a suitable garrison." On the 2Qth November, 1623, the 
ruggedness of the ascent from the Abitation to the fort, in- 
duced him to establish a road or path (since known as Moun- 
tain Hill) to Fort St. Louis. The walls of the fort later on 
covered about four acres. On the i8th April, 1624, his 
artificers were busy putting in their place the timber con* 
veyed there by his Indian allies on sledges over the snow 
on the loth December, 1623. Two years later, a violent 
wind storm carried away over the cliff the roof of the build- 

On his departure for France in August, 1624, though 
Champlain had left orders to continue the work on his fort, 
he found on his return that no progress worth mentioning 


had been made. In anticipation of the time not far distant 
when he expected the French King would be sending colo- 
nists to Quebec, as well as soldiers for their protection, the 
founder of Quebec decided on razing the small fort begun 
in 1620. With the materials, he set to work to lay the 
foundations of the larger one, which he may have occupied 
as a residence previous to the surrender of the fort to the 
Kertks in 1629, but where he certainly made his home 
when he returned from France in 1633, until his death 
there on Christmas Day, 1635. 

Louis Kertk held it from 1629 to 1632, Emery de Caen 
and Duplessis Bochart took possession of it in 1632, until 
Chatnplain's return, 23d May, 1633. 

The first Chateau, a one-story building commenced in 
1647 ty Governor de Montmagny, and which is styled 
" Corps de Logis au Fort," after some repairs was finally de- 
molished by Count de Frontenac in 1694 and rebuilt by him. 
The second Chateau, begun in 1694-5, to which a wing 
was added was completed in 1700. It is described by La 
Potherie, and later on, in 1749 by the Swedish botanist and 
traveller, Herr Peter Kalm, the friend of Linnaeus. Capt. 
John Knox of the 43d, a companion-in-arms of Wolfe, 
also alludes to it in his voluminous diary of the great siege 
of 1759, when the bombardment inflicted on Quebec by 
Admiral Saunders, left it in ruins. It so remained until 
Gov. Murray had it repaired in 1764, and occupied it in 

On the 5th May, 1784, General Haldimand set to work 
to construct an addition to St. Louis Castle for public balls 


and official dinners, whilst the state levees continued to take 
place in the old Chateau. A portion of the walls of Fort 
St Louis were used in constructing the first story of the 
building, which took the name of Chateau Haldimand. It 
was inaugurated with eclat more than two years after the 
Governor's departure, on the i8th January, 1787, by a 
splendid ball on Queen Charlotte's birthday when Lady 
Dorchester-Maria, the accomplished daughter of the Earl 
of Iffingham presided. On August I5th, 1787, Prince 
William, a middy on board the frigate Pegasus, then in port, 
afterwards Duke of Clarence, and later on, William IV., 
King of England, paid his respects to the Governor-Gen- 
eral at Government House, the old Chateau and inspected 
the new building. 

On the 2ist September of the same year, and on the 4th 
of October, 1787, the overseer of Military Works, Sergeant 
James Thompson records in his diary the extensive prepa- 
rations made to welcome to Quebec the King's son, with- 
out forgetting the platform erected for the occasion on the 
roof of the old powder magazine (razed in 1892), in the rear 
of Chateau Haldimand, in order to witness the fire- 
works set off in his honour. In December of that year, the 
Governor removed his household goods to the new build- 
ing, leaving the old Chateau to be used as public offices, and 
about this time the castle was allowed to get out of repair. 
The Governor for the time being inhabited the new build- 
ing, the Chateau Haldimand, it being more modern and 
roomy, in its internal arrangements. 

In 1808, at the request of His Excellency, General Sir 


James Henry Craig, the provincial legislature voted and 
spent 10,000 in re-building two stories higher the antique 
castle j and a short time before his departure, in 1811, he 
removed to it from his summer retreat, Spencer Wood, and 
his winter quarters at Chateau Haldimand. On the 23d 
January, 1834, it was entirely consumed by firej but its 
dependency, Haldimand Castle escaped. Lord and Lady 
Aylmer, the previous occupants of Chateau St. Louis, in- 
stead of inhabiting General Haldimand's structure, took 
their abode on the Cape with Col. Craig, until they could 
rent a house. Four years later, in 1838, the pompous but 
able Governor and Grand Commissioner, the Earl of Dur- 
ham, having declined to accept from the authorities any 
remuneration for his short time of office, it is said, directed 
this fund to be donated to the razing of the ruins of the 
old Chateau, and to the erection on their foundations, of a 
terrace (Durham Terrace until 1879), 160 feet in length. 
This the Minister of Public Works, in 1854, the Hon. P. 
Chabot, M. P. P. for Quebec, increased to 270 feet. Under 
Lord Dufferin's Plans of City Embellishments, it was ex- 
tended, at Government and Municipal cost, to 1,420 feet 
in length. The corner-stone to this incomparable prome- 
nade was laid on the i8th October, 1878, by the Earl of 
DufFerin, and was named and inaugurated by their Excel- 
lencies, the Marquis of Lome and H. R. H. the Princess 
Louise, as DufFerin Terrace on the iQth June, 1879, at the 
request of the Mayor, City Council and Citizens of 

On the 12th June, 1846, an awful fire, attended by the 


loss of forty lives, obliterated the remaining walls of the old 
Chateau and its stables, transformed first into a riding-school 
and next into a theatre. 

From 1852 to 1855, and from 1860 to 1865, the re- 
maining modern building, Chateau Haldimand, was used by 
the Provincial Board of Works, the Crown Lands, King's 
Domain and Registrar. In 1857, lt became the seat of the 
Normal School, and again until 1860 and later on. 

With the old French powder-magazine in rear, it was 
razed in 1892 to the ground to make room for the stately 
pile, the Hotel Chateau Frontenac, planned by an eminent 
New York architect, Mr. Bruce Price, for the Chateau 
Frontenac Co., of which Thos. G. Shaughnessy is the 
president. It was built at a cost of $500,000 on a site 
purchased from the Provincial Government of Quebec, 
covering 57,000 feet. 

Montmagny, Chevalier de Make, had pushed forward 
colonization, among other measures drawing on Normandy, 
Brittany, Perche, Poitou, Aunis, and set to work to inspire 
respect to the Indians hutted around his fort. The latter 
styled Montmagny Ononthio, which means " Great Moun- 
tain " playing on his name (Mons Magnus). The sur- 
name was borne by the succeeding French Governors. 

His next care was to lay out streets, widen and straighten 
the footpaths which intersected Stadacona. But a chevalier 
sans cheval, as Mr. E. Gagnon well observes, could not be 
the correct thing. So a horse as a mount the first seen 
in the colony was imported from France by the inhab- 
itants on the 2Oth June, 1647, a very suitable present to 


the worthy Knight. What became of it history does not 
say. Matters were evidently looking up at the Fort and 
Chateau when M. d'Ailleboust, the new Governor took 
possession of Government House at Quebec in 1648. He 
was replaced by M. de Lauzon, 1651-56. Lauzon re- 
occupied it as administrator in 1657, an ^ n ' s successors 
under Viscount d'Argenson in 1658 j Baron d'Avougour, 
in 1 66 1, and Chevalier SafFrey de Mesy in 1663. 

Governor de Courcelles arrived at Quebec in 1665, with 
the magnificent Marquis de Tracy, the King's Lieutenant- 
General in America. Tracy was accompanied by several 
companies of the dashing Carignan-Salieres regiment, and 
made his debut with extraordinary pomp His advent was 
quite a social event in Quebec, which had just been granted 
a Royal Government, and for the first time was styled a 
town. De Courcelles's administration lasted until 1672, 
when Count de Frontenac was named Governor. His first 
administration lasted until 1682. He was followed by 
Labarre, 1682-85, an( ^ by the Marquis De Nonville, 
1685-89, when the stern old warrior was recalled to his 
former position, which he occupied until the year of his 
death, in 1698. Callieres followed, 1699-1703, when 
Philippe de Rigaud, Marquis de Vaudreuil, was named and 
governed the country until 1725, 

Charles Le Moine, Baron de Longueuu\ administered 
the colony, 1625-26 ; he was succeeded by the Marquis 
de Beauharnois. Count de la Galissonniere was next sent 
out to govern, from 1746 to 1749, during the captivity 
of the Marquis de la Jonquiere, who, on his way to 


Quebec, had been taken prisoner by an English fleet. The 
Marquis, however, at his release ruled here, in 1752, when 
Charles Le Moine, the second Baron de Longueuil, ad- 
ministered the Government from May to July, 1752. 
That year the Marquis Duquesne de Menneville replaced 
him, and the last Governor under French rule was Pierre 
Rigaud, Marquis de Vaudreuil Cavagnal until 1760. 

History tells of one distinguished guest Herr Peter Kalm, 
the Swedish savant and botanist, who was dined and wined 
there for forty days by another savant Count de la Galis- 
sonniere, Governor of Quebec, in the summer of 1749. 
Hark to his description of the Chateau : 

" The Palace (Chateau Saint Louis), is situated on the 
west or steepest side of the mountain, just above the lower 
city. It is not properly a palace, but a large building of 
stone, two stories high, extending north and south. On 
the west side of it is a courtyard, surrounded partly with a 
wall and partly with houses. On the east side, or towards 
the river, is a gallery as long as the whole building, and 
about two fathoms broad paved with smooth flags and in- 
cluded on the outside by iron rails, from whence the city 
and river exhibit a charming prospect. This gallery serves 
as a very agreeable walk after dinner, and those who come 
to speak with the Governor-General wait here till he 
is at leisure. The place is the lodging of the Governor- 
General of Canada, and a number of soldiers mount the 
guard before it, both at the gate and in the courtyard ; and 
when the Governor, or the Bishop comes in or goes out, 
they must all appear in arms and beat the <jrum ? f^ 


Governor-General has his own chapel where he hears 
prayers ; however, he often goes to Mass at the church of 
the Recollets, which is very near the palace." 

The Castle and Fort St. Louis under England's domina- 
tion has had its sunshine and its shadows ; its dark as well 
as its bright, radiant memories ; its anxious hours of siege 
and alarm nay, even of blockade, followed by the welcome 
roar of artillery, proclaiming British victories j more than 
once social pageants and many festive displays. 

Facing the site of the fort, long since vanished, a few 
yards to the west, lies the well-known area, La Grande 
Place du Fort (since 1862, the Ring), mantled in foliage and 
trees, planted when Mayor Thomas Pope held out at the 
City Hall. Our warlike ancestors knew it as the Place 
a" Armes. In days gone by, have met, not for military 
drill, but for annual roll-call, on St. Peter and St. Paul's 
Day, June the 29th, the city militia an important though 
a very pacific body. It was continued for years until 
dropped about 1850. 

Hark ! to the rousing cheer of the British soldiery, as 
they plant on the Grande Parade, facing the historic Cha- 
teau, on the 1 8th of September, 1759, on the day of the 
capitulation of Quebec, the solitary gun, drawn from the 
Heights of Abraham through St. Louis gate. Captain John 
Knox, of the 43d Regiment, tells us how his brave com- 
mander hoisted the English flag, after taking possession of 
the keys of Quebec from de Ramsay, its late Governor. 

But the lordly castle of other days, riddled by the shot 
and shell of the English fleet, tenantless, uninhabitable, 


was not thoroughly repaired until 1764-5, when General 
James Murray, first Governor of Quebec, had his Royal 
Commission read on the adjoining square, prior to his tak- 
ing possession of the Castle as his official residence. A 
decade later, and the occupant (Sir) Guy Carleton, so appro- 
priately named the " saviour of Quebec," might notice, 
from the Chateau windows, the arrival on the Levis shore, 
on the 5th of November, 1775, of Benedict Arnold's hungry 
and worn-out continentals, eager to cross the St. Lawrence, 
and land at Wolfe's cove above. But a wise precaution 
had induced Lt.-Governor Cramahe to remove to the Que- 
bec side the Levis canoes and water conveyances before the 
arrival of the invading host. The wave of invasion, trium- 
phant at Montreal, Sorel, Chambly, Three Rivers, St. John 
and elsewhere, was hurled back by the granite rock of 
Quebec. On the 3151 December, 1775,31 9 A. M., the 
intrepid chieftain, Guy Carleton, could from his parlour 
windows look down triumphantly, but not scornfully, on 
the New England soldiery, escorted to the Grande Parade 
426 rank and file marched up prisoners of war, from the 
Sault-au-Matelot assault, to await crestfallen, the orders of 
His Excellency before being detailed to their respective 

Might one not unreasonably infer, from the official eti- 
quette that has ever prevailed among naval commanders 
frequenting our port, that the youthful captain of the sloop 
of war, Aibtmarle, Horatio Nelson, present here in 1782 
paid his devoirs at the Castle to the distinguished Governor-- 
General Sir Frederick Haldimand, and partook of the hos- 


pitalities usually shown to visitors of distinction ? At his 
romantic time of life did Nelson, like many subsequent 
lovers, indulge in a sentimental promenade on the famed 
Castle terrace ? Did he ever, at the witching-hour when 
the citadel evening-gun calls to barrack military beaux, meet 
there the adorable Mary Simpson, the girl for whose sake 
he was, he said, ready to quit the service ? Southey, as 
well as Lamartine, in their biographies of the hero of Traf- 
algar, state that violence had to be used to tear the smitten 
Horatio from his Quebec charmer. Miss Simpson after 
marrying Major Matthews, Secretary to the Governor, re- 
moved to London with her husband who became Governor 
of Chelsea Hospital. 

A titled visitor of no ordinary rank entered the portals 
of the Castle in 1787, Prince William Henry, Duke of 
Clarence, subsequently William IV., King of England. 
He was then a roystering middy on board H. M. frigate 
Pegasus, anchored in the port below the Chateau. A grand 
ball was given there in his honour by Lord and Lady 

A volume would not suffice to detail the brilliant recep- 
tions and state balls given at the Castle during Lord 
Dorchester's administration the lively discussions, the 
formal protests originating out of points of precedence, 
burning questions de jupons between the touchy magnates of 
the old and those of the new regime; whether La Baronne 
de St. Laurent would be admitted at the Chateau or not ; 
whether a de Longueuil or a de Lotbiniere's place was on 
the right of Lady Maria, the charming consort of His Ex- 


cellency Lord Dorchester, a daughter of the great English 
Earl of Effingham ; whether dancing ought to cease when 
their Lordships the Bishops entered and made their bow to 
the representative of royalty. Unfortunately, Quebec had 
then no Court Journal, so that the generations following 
can have but faint ideas of all the witchery, the stunning 
head-dresses, the d'ecollet'ees, and high-waisted robes of their 
stately grandmothers, whirled around in the giddy waltz by 
whiskered, epauletted cavaliers, or else courtesying in the 
demure minuet de la cour. 

We are now nearing the stormy era of " Little King 
Craig." Troublous times are looming out portentously 
for the earnest, hospitable, but stern Laird of the Castle, 
Sir James Henry Craig. The lightning cloud, however, 
will burst over his successor, Sir George Prevost. As 
oft before, the trumpet of Bellona has sounded ; this time 
at Washington, on the i8th of June, 1812. "Prepare for 
the Invader," is repeated with bated breath in the streets of 

" Five cannon taken at Detroit, are now lying in the 
Chateau Court," says the Quebec Mercury of 27th Octo- 
ber, 1813, whilst the prisoners taken at Detroit, brought 
down to Quebec, await embarkation for Boston for pur- 
poses of exchange. Quebec was martial with United States 
uniforms American prisoners the Yankee Generals 
Winder, Chandler and Winchester; Colonel Winfield 
Scott, later on General W : nfield Scott, who culled laurels 
in the Mexican War, and so many other officers and prv 
vates, that the Governor of Canada scarcely kjnew bow tp 


dispose of them. Colonel Scott remained in Canada from 
the date of his surrender, 23d October, 1812, to the period 
of his departure from Quebec, say May, 1813. But he was 
on parole all the time. 

In bringing to a close this brief sketch, may we not 
recall how many representatives of royalty, under French 
and under English rule, Viceroys, proud Dukes, distin- 
guished Earls, martial Counts and Barons, occasionally held 
there their Court, in quasi-regal style, in order to keep up 
the prestige of France's Grand Monarque (Louis XIV.) and 
thereby impress, the surrounding Indian tribes with his 
might ; or as worthy representatives of the British Crown 
in the New World : Champlain, de Montmagny, D'Aille- 
boust, Lauzon, D'Argenson, de Mesy, de Courcelles, stern 
old Frontenac, La Barre, Callieres, de Vaudreml, de Ramsay, 
de Longueuil, de Beauharnois, de la Galissonniere, de la 
Jonquiere, Duquesne, General Murray, Sir Guy Carleton, 
Sir F. Haldimand, Lord Dorchester, General Prescott, 
Sir James H. Craig, Sir George Prevost, Sir James Kempt, 
Sir John Coape Sherbrooke, the Duke of Richmond, Earl 
Dalhousie, Lord Aylmer ? 



A PPROACHING Tarrytown, we observe upon the 
tA. left of the highway an already populous cemetery 
covering the crown and slopes of a gentle hill. Near its 
base is an ancient church, and a little beyond it flows a 
ciear stream of water, which the Indians called Po-can-te-co, 
signifying a "run between two hills." It makes its way in 
a swift current from the back country between a hundred 
hills, presenting a thousand scenes of singular beauty in its 
course. The Dutch named it Slaeperigh Haven Kill, or 
Sleepy Haven Creek, and the valley in the vicinity of the 
old church through which it flowed Slaeperigh Hol^ or 
Sleepy Hollow, the scene of Washington Irving's famous 
legend of that name. 

The little old church is a curiosity. It was built, says 
an inscription upon a small marble tablet on its front, by 
" Frederic Philips and Catharine Van Cortland, his wife, in 
1699," and is the oldest church edifice existing in the state 
of New York. It was built of brick and stone, the former 
imported from Holland for the purpose. Over its little 
spire still turns the flag-shaped vane of iron, in which is 
cut the monogram of its founder (VF in combination, his 
name being spelt in Dutch Vedryck Flypsen); and in the 
little tower hangs the ancient bell, bearing the inscription 
in Latin : " If God be for us t who can be against us ? 1685." 


The pulpit and communion table were also imported from 
Holland. The former was long since destroyed by the 
iconoclastic hand of " improvement." 

At this quiet old church is the opening of Sleepy Hollow, 
upon the shores of the Hudson, and near it is a rustic bridge 
that crosses the Po-can-te-co^ a little below the one made 
famous in Irving's legend by an amusing incident. 1 In 
this vicinity, according to the legend, Ichabod Crane, a Con- 
necticut schoolmaster, instructed " tough, wrong-headed, 
broad-skirted, Dutch urchins " in the rudiments of learning. 
He was also the singing-master of the neighbourhood. Not 
far off lived old Baltus Van Tassel, a well-to-do farmer, 
whose house was called Wolferfs Roost. He had a bloom- 
ing and only daughter named Katrina, and Ichabod was her 
tutor in psalmody, training her voice to mingle sweetly 
with those of the choir which he led at Sabbath-day wor- 
ship in the Sleepy Hollow Church. Ichabod " had a soft 
and foolish heart towards the sex." He fell in love with 
Katrina. He found a rival in his suit in stalwart, bony 
Brom Van Brunt, commonly known as Brom Bones. Jeal- 
ousies arose, and the Dutchman resolved to drive the 
Yankee schoolmaster from the country. 

Strange stories of ghosts in Sleepy Hollow were believed 
by all, and by none more implicitly than Ichabod. The 
chief goblin seen there was that of a Hessian trooper, 

1 " Over a deep, black part of the stream, not far from the church," says 
Mr. Irving, in his Legend of Sleepy Hollow, " was formerly thrown a 
wooden bridge; the road that led to it and the bridge itself were thickly 
shaded by overhanging trees which cast a gloom about it even in the day- 
time, but occasioned a fearful darkness at night" 


whose head had been carried away by a cannon ball. This 
spectre was known all over the country as " The Headless 
Horseman of Sleepy Hollow." 

About three miles below Tarrytown is Sunnyside, the 
residence of Washington Irving. It is reached from the 
public road by a winding carriage-way that passes here 
through rich pastures and pleasant woodlands and then 
along the margin of a dell through which runs a pleasant 
brook, reminding one of the merry laughter of children as 
it dances away riverward and leaps in beautiful cascades 
and rapids into a little bay a few yards from the cottage of 

Around that cottage and the adjacent lands and waters, 
Irving's genius has cast an atmosphere of romance. The 
old Dutch house one of the oldest in all that region out 
of which grew that quaint cottage, was a part of the veri- 
table Wolfert's Roost the very dwelling wherein occurred 
Katrina Van Tassel's memorable quilting frolic that termi- 
nated so disastrously to Ichabod Crane in his midnight race 
with the " Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow." There, 
too, the veracious Dutch historian, Diedrich Knickerbocker, 
domiciled while he was deciphering the precious documents 
found there, " which, like the lost books of Livy, had baf- 
fled the research of former historians." But its appearance 
had sadly changed when it was purchased by Mr. Irving, 
about 1836, and was by him restored to the original form of 
the Roost, which he describes as " a little, old-fashioned stone 
mansion, all made up of gable ends, and as full of angles 
and corners in an old cocked hat. It is said, in fact," con- 


tinues Mr. Irving, " to have been modelled after the cockeJ 
hat of Peter the Headstrong, as the Escunal was modelled 
after the gridiron of the blessed St. Lawrence." It was 
built, the chronicler tells us, by Wolfert Acker, a privy 
councillor of Peter Stuy vesant, " a worthy, but ill-starred 
man, whose aim through life had been to live in peace and 
quiet." He sadly failed. " It was his doom, in fact, to 
meet a head wind at every turn and be kept in a constant 
fume and fret by the perverseness of mankind. Had he 
served on a modern jury he would have been sure to have 
eleven unreasonable men opposed to him." He retired in 
disgust to this then wilderness, built the gabled house and 
" inscribed over the door (his teeth clenched at the time) 
his favourite Dutch motto c Lust in Rust ' (pleasure in 
quiet). The mansion was thence called Wolferfs Rust 
(Wolfert's Rest), but by the uneducated, who did not un- 
derstand Dutch, Wolf erf s Roost." It passed into the hands 
of Jacob Van Tassel, a valiant Dutchman, who espoused 
the cause of the Republicans. The hostile ships of the 
British were often seen in Tappan Bay, in front of the 
Roost^ and Cow Boys infested the land thereabout. Van 
Tassel had much trouble : his house was finally plundered 
and burnt, and he was carried a prisoner to New York. 
When the war was over, he rebuilt the Roost, but in more 
modest style. " The Indian spring " the one brought 
from Rotterdam " still welled up at the bottom of the 
green bank ; and the wild brook, wild as ever, came bab- 
bling down the ravine, and chrew itself into the little cove 
where of yore the water-guard harboured their whale-boats." 


The " water-guard " was an acquatic corps, m the pay 
of the Revolutionary government, organized to range the 
waters of the Hudson, and keep watch upon the movements 
of the British. The Roost, according to the chronicler, was 
one of the lurking-places of this band and Van Tassel was 
one of their best friends. He was, moreover, fond of war- 
ring upon his " own hook/' He possessed a famous 
" goose-gun " that would send its shot half-way across 
Tappan Bay. " When the belligerent feeling was strong 
upon Jacob," says the chronicler of the Roost, " he would 
take down his gun, sally forth alone, and prowl along shore, 
dodging behind rocks and trees, watching for hours together 
any ship or galley at anchor or becalmed. So sure as a 
boat approached the shore, bang ! went the great goose-gun v 
sending on board a shower of slugs and buck shot." 

On one occasion Jacob and some fellow bush-fighters 
peppered a British transport that had run aground. " This," 
says the chronicler, " was the last of Jacob's triumphs ; he 
fared like some heroic spider that had unwittingly ensnared 
a hornet, to the utter ruin of its web. It was not long after 
the above exploit that he fell into the hands of the enemy, 
in the course of one of his forays, and was carried away 
prisoner to New York. The Roost itself, as a pestilent 
rebel nest, was marked out for signal punishment. The 
cock of the Roost being captive, there was none to garrison 
it but his stout-hearted spouse, his redoubtable sister, Notchie 
Van Wurmer, and Dinah, a strapping negro wench. An 
armed vessel came to anchor in front ; a boat full of men 
pulled to shore. The garrison flew to arms, that is to say, 


to mops, broomsticks, shovels, tongs, and all kinds of do 
mestic weapons, for, unluckily, the great piece of ordnance, 
the goose-gun, was absent with its owner. Above all, a 
vigorous defence was made with that most potent of female 
weapons, the tongue ; never did invaded hen-roost make a 
more vociferous outcry. It was all in vain ! The house 
was sacked and plundered, fire was set to each room, and 
in a few moments its blaze shed a baleful light over the 
Tappan Sea." 



ON the corner of Essex and North Streets, in Salem, 
there stands a house that attracts many visitors, al- 
though it is neither picturesque nor impressive. " The Old 
Witch House," however, appeals to the imagination, recall- 
ing one of the darkest chapters in the history of this coun- 
try, the witchcraft mania of the Seventeenth Century. 

This belief, transplanted from the Old Country, flour- 
ished luxuriantly under the dark shadow of Puritanism. 
Although witchcraft was believed in throughout the Middle 
Ages, the witch-mania proper begins in 1484 when Inno- 
cent VIII. gave the sanction of the Church to the prosecu- 
tion of all who were believed to practice sorcery ; and soon 
after this the famous Malleus Maleficarum, or Hammer for 
Witches was drawn up by two German inquisitors and a 
clergyman of Constance. In this book witchcraft is de- 
scribed and a code for the trial of witches systematized. 
Fires for burning witches blazed in nearly every town on 
the Continent for nearly four centuries. In Germany the 
persecutions were frightful, and in Geneva five hundred 
persons were burned in three months in 1515-1516 ! The 
witch-mania was rampant in England and Scotland, where 
in the Seventeenth Century a horrible class called " witch 
finders " went from town to town, where, for the small 
fee of twenty shillings, they discovered witches, subjecting 


innocent persons the old, the young, the attractive and 
unattractive, the infirm and the ill, as well as the hale and 
hearty to most inane tests and cruel tortures till they 
confessed themselves bewitched. It is said that the 
greatest number of legal executions in England took place 
during the sitting of the Long Parliament (1640-1660), 
when three thousand persons were put to death. This 
figure, however, does not include those poor creatures who 
suffered death at the hands of the mob. 

This witch-mania had, in great measure, abated at home 
when it broke out in the British Colonies in America, A 
few trials occurred in Maryland and Virginia and a few 
persons were hung in Connecticut ; but Massachusetts was 
the soil most favourable to the growth of this terrible delu- 
sion. Salem has the distinction of having sent the greatest 
number of victims to their unjust doom. The town be- 
came panic-stricken and no one was safe. An historian 
writes : 

"So violent was the popular prejudice against every ap- 
pearance of witchcraft, that it was deemed meritorious to 
denounce all that gave the least reason for suspicion. 
Every child and every gossip was prepared to recognize a 
witch, and no one could be certain of personal safety. As 
the infatuation increased, many of the most reputable fe- 
males, and several males also, were apprehended and com- 
mitted to prison. There is good reason to believe that, 
in some instances, the vicious and abandoned availed them- 
selves of gratifying their corrupt passions of envy, malice 
and revenge." 


A graphic description of the Salem horrors is given 
in Old Naumkeag, by Webber and Nevins (Salem, 

" Salem witchcraft commenced during the month of 
February, 1692, at the house of the Rev. Samuel Parris, in 
that part of the original town, which is now Danvers. 
The daughtei of Mr. Parris and his niece Abigail Williams, 
aged nine and twelve years respectively, began to act 4 in a 
strange and unusual manner.' They would utter loud and 
piteous cries, creep into holes, hide under benches and put 
themselves into odd postures. The physicians pronounced 
them bewitched, and all the ministers were invited to meet 
at Mr. Parris's house, and unite with him in solemn relig- 
ious services. As the interest in their actions increased, 
they became more violent, and accused Tituba, a South 
American slave in the Parris family, of having bewitched 
them. Mr. Parris beat Tituba and compelled her to ac- 
knowledge herself guilty. These children next complained 
of Sarah Goode and Sarah Osborne, and then of two other 
women of excellent character, Corey and Nurse. All 
were thrown into prison. John, Tituba's husband, for his 
own safety, accused others. The demon was thus let loose 
in the midst of the people, but it was the demon of super- 
stition rather than the demon of witchery." 

The following list of those who were executed is also 
taken from the same authorities : 

" Rev. Geo. Burroughs, of Wells, Maine ; Wilmot Reed, 
of Marblehead ; Margaret Scot, of Rowley ; Susanna Mar- 
tin, of Amesbury ; Elizabeth Howe, ot Ipswich j Sarah 


Wildes and Mary Estes, of Topsfield ; Samuel WardwelL, 
Martha Currier and Mary Parker, of Andover; John 
Proctor, Geo. Jacobs, Sen., John Willard, Sarah Goode, 
Rebecca Nurse, Giles Corey and Martha Corey of Salem 
Village, Ann Pudeater, Bridget Bishop and Alice Parker, 
of Salem. 

" Corey was pressed to death, because he refused to 
speak, knowing that speech would avail him nothing. His 
tongue was pressed out of his mouth, but was forced in 
again by the sheriff with his cane. About 150 persons in 
all were accused of witchcraft, including nine children 
varying from five to fourteen years. 

" Various were the accusations brought against them, such 
as having familiarity with l the black man,' who it was claimed 
was ever by their side whispering in their ear; holding days 
of hellish fasts and thanksgivings ; eating red bread and 
drinking blood ; transforming themselves and their victims 
into various forms ; signing contracts with Satan ; entering 
his employ and yielding to his commands ; afflicting others 
by pinching, pricking with pins, striking, etc., while many 
miles distant j and divers other accusations that would be 
laughed to scorn at the present day. All matters of afflic- 
tion or of discord among the people, such as a controversy 
respecting the settlement of a minister, which had for a 
time been going on ; also the death of some of the most in- 
fluential of the citizens, were attributed to Satanic influ- 
ences. With such inflammable matter, in an age of super- 
stition, the result is not to be wondered at. 

" Cotton Mather, one pf the most learned ministers of 


chat time, led in the preaching to the people of sermons 
designed to inflame rather than abate the panic. He 
adopted the doctrine of demons, and was exceedingly ener- 
getic in endeavouring to spread the delusion into other parts 
of the Colony. To him is largely ascribed the extent of 
the calamity." 

Victims were quickly dragged to " Witch Hill," after 
being quickly convicted. It is said that many speedy and 
informal trials took place in the " Witch House," which 
was in 1692 the residence of the intolerant Judge Corwin. 

Dr. Bentley says : 

" From March to August, 1692, was the most distressing 
time Salem ever knew : business was interrupted, the town 
deserted, terror was in every countenance and distress in 
every heart. Every place was the subject of some direful 
tale, fear haunted every street, melancholy dwelt in silence 
in every place after the sun retired. The population was 
diminished, business could not for some time recover its 
former channels, and the innocent suffered with the guilty. 
But as soon as the judges ceased to condemn, the people 
ceased to accuse. Terror at the violence and the guilt of 
the proceedings, succeeded instantly to the conviction of 
blind zeal, and what every man had encouraged, all now 
professed to abhor. Every expression of sorrow was found 
in Salem. The church erased all the ignominy they had 
attached to the dead, by recording a most humble acknowl- 
edgment of their error. But a diminished population, the 
injury done to religion and the distress of the aggrieved 
were seen and felt with the greatest sorrow." 


When the authorities finally realized their error, all the 
victims locked up in the Salem prison were discharged with- 
out trial, and those suspected persons who had fled to other 
towns for safety were permitted to return to their homes 
without fear of being molested. 

Regarding this outbreak in Salem, James Russell Lowell 
writes : 

" Credulity, as a mental and moral phenomenon, mani- 
fests itself in widely different ways, according as it chances 
to be the daughter of fancy or terror. The one lies warm 
about the heart as Folk-lore, fills moonlit dells with dancing 
fairies, sets out a meal for the Brownie, hears the tinkle of 
airy bridle-bells as Tamlane rides away with the Queen of 
Dreams, changes Pluto and Proserpine into Oberon and 
Titania, and makes friends with unseen powers as Good 
Folk ; the other is a bird of night, whose shadow sends a 
chill among the roots of the hair; it sucks with the vam- 
pire, gorges with the ghoul, is choked by the night-hag, 
pines away under the witches' charm, and commits unclean- 
ness with the embodied Principle of Evil, giving up the fair 
:ealm of innocent belief to a murky throng from the slums 
and stews of the debauched brain. . . . 

"Tire Puritan emigration to New England took place at 
a /time when the belief in diabolic agency had been hardly 
called in question, much less shaken. They brought it 
with therr. to a country in every way fitted, not only to keep 
it alive, but to feed it into greater vigour. The solitude of 
the wilderness (and solitude alone by dis-furnishing the 
brain of its commonplace associations, makes it an apt 


theatre for the delusions of imagination), the nightly forest 
noises, the glimpse, perhaps, through the leaves, of a painted 
savage face, uncertain whether of redman or Devil, but 
more likely of the latter, above all, that measureless mystery 
of the unknown and conjectural stretching away illimitable 
pn all sides and vexing the mind, somewhat as physical 
darkness does, with intimation and misgiving, under all 
these influences, whatever seeds of superstition had in any 
way got over from the Old World would find an only too 
congenial soil in the New. The leaders of that emigration 
believed and taught that demons loved to dwell in waste and 
wooded places, that the Indians did homage to the bodily 
presence of the Devil, and that he was especially enraged 
against those who had planted an outpost of the true faith 
upon this continent hitherto all his own. In the third gen- 
eration of the settlement, in proportion as living faith de- 
cayed, the clergy insisted all the more strongly on the tradi- 
tions of the elders, and as they all placed the sources of 
goodness and religion in some inaccessible Other World 
rather than in the soul of man himself, they clung to every 
shred of the supernatural as proof of the existence of that 
Other World, and of its interest in the affairs of this. 
They had the countenance of all the great theologians, 
Catholic as well as Protestant, of the leaders of the Refor- 
mation, and in their own day of such men as More and 
Glanvil and Baxter. If to these causes, more or less opera- 
tive in 1692, we add the harassing excitement ot an Indian 
war (urged on by Satan in his hatred of the churches), with 
'ts daily and nightly apprehensions and alarms, we shall be 


less astonished that the delusion in Salem Village rose so 
high than that it subsided so soon." 

The " Old Witch House " that forms the subject of our 
sketch was originally the home of Roger Williams while he 
was preaching in Salem in 1635-1636. From it he fled to 
the shores of Narraganset Bay, where he founded the Col- 
ony of Rhode Island. Its next occupant was Captain Rich- 
ard Davenport who cut the cross from the King's colours 
because "it savoured of Popery." In 1674 or 1675, Judge 
Corwin of witchcraft fame took possession and made many 
alterations. Before his day the old house presented a more 
attractive appearance, resembling many houses of this period 
still standing in England. In its original state, it was com- 
posed of several overhanging stories, each larger than the 
one below and the roof was broken into several peaked 
gables, each of which was ornamented with a pineapple 
of carved wood. Narrow windows with lozenge-shaped 
panes added to its quaintness. More alterations were made 
in 1746 and 1772, and all feeling of picturesqueness has 
vanished completely. 



ONE day I took a car to pay a visit to the shrine of 
Guadalupe, which is situated three miles from the 
city (Mexico), and is a great point of attraction both to resi- 
dents and visitors. 

The old road from the city to Guadalupe, with its hand- 
some wayside shrines, was given up to the Vera Cruz Rail- 
way, and a new road for tramcars and traffic has been made 
alongside of it. As soon as we had passed the gates and 
the aduna, " crack, crack, hi, hi, hi ! " and off we went at 
a hand gallop past adobe houses and pulquerias, the snow- 
capped giant Popocatapetl lifting his white head to the azure 
on the right, and soon, through the avenue of trees, the lit- 
tle church on the hill Tepeyac, erected where the Virgin 
appeared to the peasant Juan Diego, and the Cathedral at its 
foot, with its flat facade flanked by low towers, were both 
visible in the distance. 

The cars came to a standstill in front of the Cathedral, 
and a motley crowd of loungers watched us alight. 

The houses are one-storied and old, the windows barred 
after the fashion introduced by the Moors into Spain ; be- 
hind the bars stood village maidens and matrons who sig- 
nalled and saluted their male acquaintances by holding up 
the left hand, the fingers extended, which they wiggled to 
and fro about half-a-dozen times ; this is their mode of saluta- 


tion, possibly it means we have fruit and entertainment to 

The church of Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe is the most 
famous of all the churches in the country, owing its noto- 
riety to the legend that, on the 1 2th of December, 1531, 
the Virgin Mary appeared to a poor Mexican shepherd in 
that neighbourhood ; he reported the vision to the priests, 
who asked him to substantiate his statement by proofs. 
The Virgin showed herself to him on five different occa- 
sions, and finally stamped her image on his blanket; this 
mark was accepted ; Our Lady of Guadalupe was officially 
proclaimed the patron saint of Mexico by the authority of 
Pope Clement VII., and thereby the influence of the Cath- 
olic religion was greatly extended, it being asserted that, by 
her graciously appearing to a native, all natives were taken 
under her special protection. A shrine was erected on the 
top of the hill where the vision appeared. At its foot rose 
a magnificent Cathedral, which at one time was very rich 
in gold and silver ornaments, the offerings of the faithful ; 
but many of these were confiscated and coined into money 
by order of President Benito Juarez in 1860, and have since 
been replaced by inferior metal. 

The name of Guadalupe was combined with that of Hi- 
dalgo, the Mexican priest who in 1810 raised the cry of in- 
dependence from the Spanish yoke. He had painted on his 
standard the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe which 
greatly helped to excite the patriotism of the natives ; more 
than 100,000 of them rallied round him; but they were so 
badly armed that they could not compete with the Spanish 


forces, who, curious to say, fought under the banner of the 
Virgin Los Remedios. 

Poor Hidalgo was captured by the Spaniards and shot in 
1811 ; but his followers in whom he had aroused much en- 
thusiasm, continued the war, and, after eleven years' hard 
fighting, independence was accomplished, in 1821, under 
Iturbide ; and Spanish Viceroys and their rule were abol- 
ished. Mexican presidents, nominated every four years by 
the plebiscite of the nation, took their place. 

There is not much to see in the Cathedral, which has 
been despoiled of its silver and valuables (the golden frame 
of the Virgin was taken, but returned) ; so I made the as- 
cent by a zigzag road to the shrine at the top of the hill. 

Before entering the chapel, stop to look at the view ; it 
will repay any amount of trouble taken in mounting the 
steep steps. The city, the lake and Chapultepec are within 
the range of a camera, if it could be so fixed as to avoid the 
roof of the Cathedral below you,, Turn and enter the 
shrine : at a little altar on the right are rude daubs of pic- 
tures representing miracles worked through the interven- 
tion of the Virgin pious offerings in commemoration of a 
child saved from fire, a husband from lightning, a wife from 
a runaway train, a lady and gentleman from an overturn 
of a carnage, people rising from a bed of sickness, and such 
like some of them with the paint hardly dry. 

The altar railing is of solid silver ; this railing was, of 
all the sumptuous church fixtures throughout the land, alone 
spared by the Liberals. Its value must be immense ; pious 
Mexicans do not like to appraise it, for reasons best known 


to themselves. The great gem, however, of this church is 
the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe, which she herself 
imprinted according to the legend upon the tilma, or 
garment, of Juan Diego, the poor peasant, as a proof that 
she had appeared to him ; this relic is hung over the high 
altar in a wrought-iron case and is only exposed on rare 
holidays. By especial grace I obtained a view of it. The 
tilma is a very coarse piece of woollen fabric ; the colouring 
of the image is distinct, and may have been touched up 
from time to time. On a table at the door are copies of 
the picture in all sizes, and you see them in every Indian 
hut, every wayside shrine, in all the public offices, in every 
church indeed in every place in the land, appropriate or 
inappropriate, as the case may be. 

In an adjoining churchyard are some pretty tombs, and 
great prices are paid for interment in this sacred spot. 
Santa Anna rests here, and the names of the leading families 
of Mexico could be read on the marble on all directions. 

After descending from the hill I visited the miraculous 
sulphur spring, said to cure everything ; the church or dome 
which covers it was being redecorated at great expense at 
the time of my visit. The legend says that this spring of 
sulphur hydrogen gushed forth from a spot touched by one 
of the Virgin's feet. On the I2th of December every year 
(the anniversary of the apparition), thousands of natives 
from all parts of the country visit this shrine and the 
Church of Guadalupe. The name is familiar to many 
people as that of a town between Toledo and Trujillo in 
Spain, where there is a famous shrine to the Virgin. 


There is always a longing in the minds of colonists to 
perpetuate the names of the country of their birth, and 
Guadalupe is no doubt an instance of this patriotic feeling 
on the part of the Spaniards ; the Geronomite convent in 
Spain was at the time of the Conquest the richest and most 
venerated shrine in the old country, its celebrated figure of 
the Virgin, being believed to have been carved by St. Luke 
himself, and it was given by St. Gregory the Great to San 
Leandro for putting down Arianism. The figure was 
hidden and miraculously preserved during six centuries of 
Moorish invasion, and when brought to light was so vene- 
rated by the whole Spanish nation that the settlers in New 
Spain would delight in perpetuating the name of the shrine 
in their new home. 



THE town of Alexandria was at first called Hunting 
Creek Warehouse, sometimes Belle Haven, and 
consisted of a small establishment at that place. Its growth 
was encouraged by successive acts of the Legislature, estab- 
lishing semi-annual fairs and granting certain privileges to 
those who attended them. In the year 1762, it was en- 
larged by the laying off of numerous lots on the higher 
ground, belonging to Dade, West and the Alexanders, after 
which it improved rapidly, so that at the close of the Eight- 
eenth or beginning of the Nineteenth Century its population 
was ten thousand, and its commerce greater than it now is. 
So promising was it at the close of the war, that its claims 
were weighed in the balance with those of Washington as 
the seat of National Government. It is thought that, but 
for the unwillingness of Washington to seem partial to 
Virginia, Alexandria would have been the chosen spot, and 
that on the first range of hills overlooking the town the 
public buildings would have been erected. Whether there 
had been any public worship or church at Alexandria pre- 
vious to this enlargement of it, and the great impulse thus 
given to it, does not appear from the vestry-book, though it 
is believed that there was. But soon after this, in the year 
1764, Fairfax parish is established, and measures taken for 
the promotion of the Church in this place. The vestry- 



book commences in 1765. At one time there were two 
churches in the new parish of Fairfax one at the Falls, 
called, as the present one is Little Falls Church ; the posi- 
tion of the other the Lower Church is not known. It 
may have been an old one at Alexandria. 

Among the first acts of the vestry was the repairing of 
the two old churches in the parish, at a cost of more than 
thirty-two thousand pounds of tobacco. In the year 1766, 
it is determined to build two new churches, one at the 
Little Falls, very near the old one, and one in Alexandria, 
to contain twenty-four hundred square feet and to be high- 
pitched so as to admit of galleries. Mr. James Wrenn 
agrees to build the former, and Mr. James Parsons the 
other, for about six hundred pounds each. A most par- 
ticular contract is made for them. The mortar is to have 
two-thirds of lime and one of sand, the very reverse of 
the proportion at this day, and which accounts for the 
greater durability of ancient walls. The shingles were to 
be of the best cypress or juniper, and three-quarters of an 
inch thick, instead of our present half-inch ones. Mr. 
Parsons was allowed to add ten feet to the upper part of the 
church on his own account, and to pay himself by their 
sale, on certain conditions. He commenced his work, but 
was unable to finish it. It lingered for some years, until in 

1772, Mr. John Carlisle undertakes it, and completes it in 

1773. The ten pews are now sold, and General Washing- 
ton, though having just been engaged in the erection of 
Mount Vernon Church, which was finished the same year, 
and having a pew therein, gives the highest price for one 


in Christ Church, which was occupied by him and his 
family during his life, and has been by some of his name 
ever since. The gallery was not put up until the year 
1787, at which time the pews were balloted for. The 
steeple is of modern construction. 

Christ Church stands on Cameron and Washington Streets in a 
pretty green churchyard, where in 1774, Washington addressed 
the citizens advocating resistance to Great Britain ; and 'it was on 
the spot also that General Lee agreed to take command of the 
Virginia forces at the beginning of the Civil War in 1861. 

Washington attended Christ Church regularly, and his pew 
is still shown. Unfortunately, the old high backed pews were 
cut down a few years ago at the instance of the rector of an 
important church in Washington. Washington always drove from 
Mount Vernon to Alexandria in a handsome cream-coloured coach, 
the body of which was suspended by heavy leather straps. The 
sides and front were shaded with green blinds and black leather 
outside curtains. The lining of the coach was black leather ; the 
Washington arms were painted on the doors and a picture of the 
seasons was also painted on each of the four panels. Four horses 
were ordinarily harnessed to this coach except when six were re- 
quired for long journeys. What became of this coach we learn from 
Bishop Meade, who says : 

" There was one object of interest belonging to General Wash- 
ington, concerning which I have a special right to speak, viz. : 
his old English coach, in which himself and Mrs. Washington not 
only rode in Fairfax County, but travelled through the length and 
breadth of our land. So faithfully was it executed that, at the 
conclusion of this long journey, its builder, who came over with it 
and settled in Alexandria, was proud to be told by the General 
that not a nail or screw had failed. It so happened, in a way I 
need not state, that this coach came into my hands about fifteen 
years after the death of General Washington. In the course of 
time, from disuse, it being too heavy for these latter days, it began 


to decay and give way. Becoming an object of desire to those 
who delight in relics, I caused it to be taken to pieces and dis- 
tributed among the admiring friends of Washington who visited my 
house, and also among a number of female associations for benevo- 
lent and religious objects, which associations, at their fairs and other 
occasions, made a large profit by converting the fragments into 
walking-sticks, picture-frames, and snuff-boxes. About two-thirds 
of one of the wheels thus produced one hundred and forty dollars. 
There can be no doubt but that at its dissolution it yielded more 
to the cause of charity than it did to its builder at its first erection. 
Besides other mementos of it, I have in my study, in the form of a 
sofa, the hind-seat, on which the General and his lady were wont 
to sit " E. S. 



WE start in the early morning on a pedestrian excur- 
sion through this " Paris of the South." We 
almost fancy that we have gone to sleep in the New World, 
and woke up in the old fair and familiar city across the sea. 
It is the same, yet not the same ; there is a similarity in the 
general features especially in the vicinity of Canal Street, 
to which I shall allude more fully by and by, and an insou- 
ciant gaiety in the aspect of the people, which pervades the 
very air they breathe ; an electric current seems always 
playing upon their spirits ; moving their emotional nature, 
sometimes to laughter, sometimes to tears. It seems as 
though the two cities had been built on the same model, 
only differently draped and garnished, decorated with dif- 
ferent orders and stamped with a different die. Coming 
down a narrow lane, we met a Frenchwoman, her mahog- 
any coloured face scored like the bark of an old tree scarcely 
visible beneath her flapping sunbonnet. She wore short 
petticoats, and came clattering along over the rough stones 
in her wooden sabots, while her tall blue-bloused grandson 
carrying her well-filled basket strode beside her; and a 
meek-eyed Sister of Charity bent on her errand of mercy 
passed in at a creeking doorway. These were the only 
signs of life we saw as we first turned on our way to the 


French quarter of the town, which still bears the impress 
of the old Colonial days. This is the most ancient portion 
of the city, and full of romantic traditions of the days that 
are dead and gone. The long narrow crooked streets, 
running on all sides in a spidery fashion, with rows of 
shabby-looking houses, remain exactly as they were a hun- 
dred years ago. Strict conservatism obtains here ; nothing 
has been done in the way of improvement ; the old wooden 
houses are bruised and battered as though they had been 
engaged in a battle with time and been worsted ; they are 
covered with discolourations and patches, naked and lan- 
guishing for a new coat of paint. There are no dainty 
green sun blinds here, but heavy worm-eaten wooden shut- 
ters and queer timber-doors hung on clumsy iron hinges ; 
here and there we get a glimpse of the dingy interiors while 
a few bearded men are lounging smoking in the doorways, 
and a few children, clattering like French magpies, are play- 
ing on the threshold. Everything is quiet and dull a sort 
of Rip Van Winkle-ish sleep seems drooping its drowsy 
wings and brooding everywhere, till a lumbering dray comes 
clattering over the cobble stones, and sends a thousand 
echoes flying through the lonely streets. 

From these stony regions, past the little old-fashioned 
church where the good Catholics worshipped a century ago 
and we emerge upon Canal Street, the principal business 
thoroughfare of the city ; it is thronged with people at this 
time of day, busy crowds are passing to and fro, the shop 
windows are dressed in their most attractive wares, tempt- 
ingly exposed to view. Confectioners, fruit and fancy 


stores overflow into open stalls in front and spread along 
the sidewalk ; huge bunches of green bananas, strawberries, 
peas, pines, cocoa-nuts and mangoes, mingled with dainty 
vegetables, are lying in heaps. We are tempted to try a 
mango, the favourite southern fruit, of whose luscious 
quality we have so often heard, but the first taste of its 
sickening sweetness satisfies our desires. The street is 
very wide, and the jingle-jangle of the car-bells, the rattling 
of wheels and the spasmodic shriek and whistle of the 
steam engine all mingle together in a not unsweet con- 
fusion. Lumbering vehicles, elegant carriages, street-cars 
and a fussy little railway, all run in parallel lines along the 
wide roadway. This is the great backbone of the city, 
whence all lines of vehicular traffic branch off on their 
diverse tracks into all the highways and byways of the 
land. Here we get on to a car which carries us through 
the handsomest quarter of the city. Quaint old-fashioned 
houses, surrounded by gardens of growing flowers, and 
magnificent magnolias, now in full bloom, stand here and 
there in solitary grandeur, or sometimes in groups like a 
conclave of green limbed giants, clothed in white raiment, 
and perfumed with the breath of paradise. Past lines of 
elegant residences, where the elite of the city have their 
abode, and we soon reach a rough wooden shed yclept a 
" depot." 

The architectural beauty of New Orleans is unique, and 
wholly unlike any other Southern city ; the avenues are wide 
and beautifully planted, a generous shade spreads every way 


you turn. The dwelling-houses which line St. Charles's 
Avenue are graceful, classical structures, no blending to- 
gether of ancient and modern ideas, and running wild into 
fancy chimney-pots, arches, points and angles like a Twelfth 
Cake ornament. Some are fashioned like Greek temples, 
most impressive in their chaste outline and simplicity of 
form ; others straight and square, with tall Corinthian col- 
umns or fluted pillars, sometimes of marble, sometimes of 
stone. The severe architectural simplicity, the pure white 
buildings shaded by beautiful magnolias and surrounded by 
brilliant shrubs and flowers, form a vista charming to the 
eye and soothing to the senses, and all stands silhouetted 
against the brightest of blue skies a blue before which the 
bluest of Italian skies would seem pale. 

The aspect of the city changes on every side ; we leave 
the fashionable residential regions and enter broad avenues 
lined with grand old forest trees, sometimes in double rows, 
the thick-leaved branches meeting and forming a canopy 
overhead. The ground is carpeted with soft green turf, and 
bare-legged urchins, black and white, are playing merry 
games ; a broken down horse is quietly grazing, and a cow 
is being milked under the trees, while a company of pretty 
white goats, with a fierce-looking Billie at their head, are 
careering about close by. Pretty pastoral bits of landscape 
on every side cling to the skirts and fringe the sides of this 
quaint city. As we get farther away from St. Charles's 
Avenue, the better class of residences get fewer and fewer, 
till they cease altogether, and we come upon pretty green. 


shuttered cottages, with their porches covered with blos- 
soms and rows of the old-fashioned straw bee-hives in 
front. Here and there are tall tenement houses built of 
cherry-red bricks, which are let out in flats to the labouring 



THE history of Canada that is destined to live is that 
of its earliest explorers and colonists, amongst whom 
the French rank first and the English second. One of the 
most interesting monuments of that history is the Chateau 
de Ramezay in Montreal, of which I propose to record here 
what little I have been able to learn during a short visit to 
Canada. It was built about 1705 by Claude de Ramezay, 
" a distinguished soldier of noble birth," who was Gov- 
ernor of Montreal from 1703 to 1724. In some books I 
find the name spelt Ramsay or Ramesay, but Ramezay is 
the spelling adopted by the Numismatic and Antiquarian 
Society of Montreal. It is practically certain that the 
Governor of Montreal who bore the name was of Scotch 
extraction. In the Seventeenth Century the cadets of many 
families of the French nobility emigrated to Canada (" La 
Nouvelle France," as it was then called), while the nominal 
Vice-royalty was held by several of the highest nobles of 
the land, viz., the Prince de Conde, Due de Montmorenci, 
and Due de Ventadour. The emigrant nobles were granted 
seigneuries in various parts of New France, and in some 
cases these seigneuries have remained in their families to 
the present day. The Chateau de Ramezay is the town 
mansion of one of these seigneurial families. Very little, 
however, seems to be known of Claude de Ramezay. An 


autograph letter of his, presented by Judge Baby, is in the 
museum. In 1703, the Marquis de Vaudreuil, Command- 
ant of Montreal, succeeded the Chevalier de Calliere (who 
had also in his day been Governor or Commandant of Mon- 
treal) as Governor of Canada. Claude de Ramezay ap- 
parently succeeded De Vaudreuil as Military Governor of 
Montreal. He appears to have been a man of capacity and 
to have interested himself keenly in the pioneering and ex- 
ploring work to which so many men at that time devoted 
themselves. In 1702, during his Governorship, a French 
post was established at Detroit, and in 1717, another at the 
mouth of the Kaministiquia River, on Lake Superior, where 
Fort William now is. Nor was M. de Ramezay backward 
in organizing military expeditions against the English settle- 
ments in the New England States. During the whole of 
De Ramezay's Governorship the English and French colo- 
nies in America were at war, as indeed they almost always 
were, whether the mother-countries were at peace or not. 

The Governorship of Claude de Ramezay is said to have 
ended in 1724, whether owing to his death or retirement we 
are not told. In 1745, the Chateau passed into the hands 
of " La Compagnie des Indes" and remained with them till 
September, 1760, when Montreal surrendered to the united 
forces of Amherst, Haviland and Murray. We are not told 
what use was made of the Chateau from 1724 to 1745. 
Tradition associates with the Chateau the name of De 
Vaudreuil, one celebrated in the annals of " La Nouvelle 
France" but it is not explicit as to date, or indeed any de- 
tail. The first Marquis de Vaudreuil, after having been 


for some years Commandant of Montreal, became Governor 
of Canada in 1703, and retained that post until he died, 
respected and regretted in 1725. 

It is said that when Claude de Ramezay died (no date 
given), his heirs found themselves unable to bear the ex- 
pense of keeping up so large a residence, and sold it to 
44 La Compagnie des Indes" From 1745 to 1760, it was 
thus the headquarters of a great French trading-company, 
the resort of Indian voyageurs and coureurs de bois^ coming in 
from the north and west with their loads of furs, and selling 
or bartering them to the agents of the company, by whom 
they were shipped to France. This company also held by 
charter a monopoly in the purchase and sale of all imports 
and exports in the Colony. When Canada passed into the 
possession of Great Britain, in 1760, the Chateau de Rame- 
zay became General Amherst's headquarters, and subse- 
quently for a short time those of General Gage. We find 
from Withrow's History that it was a De Ramsay (as 
With row spells it), who surrendered Quebec to General 
Townshend after Wolfe's victory on the Heights of 

When Canada was ceded to the British, the Chateau de 
Ramezay was not at first annexed as the residence of the 
Governor of Montreal. It was purchased from the " Com- 
pagnie des Indes " by William Grant, Baron de Longueuil. 1 

1 The Grants, Barons de Longueuil, hold the only Colonial peerage in 
the British Empire. Their barony, though created by the Bourbons, is 
held in right of their domair in Canada, and as such is now recognized 
by the Herald's office. 


It is doubtful if the Grants ever occupied the Chateau, fol 
it continued to be known for some ten years after the ces- 
sion by the name of the " Indian House." The Governor 
of Canada then, finding it necessary to provide the Lieuten- 
ant-Governor with a suitable residence, leased it. The 
first Lieutenant-Governor who attended it was Mr. Cra- 
mahe. He had scarcely settled there when the approach 
of General Montgomery, in November, 1775, with a force 
of New England Revolutionists compelled him to vacate it 
and retire to Quebec. There, pending the arrival of 
General Sir Guy Carleton, he made energetic preparations 
for the defence of Quebec, and declined to give any answer 
to Benedict Arnold's summons to surrender, which was 
made on the I4th of October. On the igth Sir Guy 
Carleton arrived, and assumed command of the defence. 
It was on the I2th of November, 1775, that General Mont- 
gomery entered Montreal, and on the 4th of December 
his forces and those of Arnold, about 1,200 men in all, ap- 
peared before Quebec. Montgomery was slain in a vain 
attempt to capture the town on the night of the 3151 of 
December, 1775. Finally, early in May, 1776, the Amer- 
icans were driven from before Quebec, leaving guns, stores, 
provisions, and even their sick behind. Meanwhile three 
American Commissioners, Benjamin Franklin, Samuel Chase 
and Charles Carroll, came to Montreal to urge the Canadians 
to join the revolted colonies against Great Britain. Ben- 
jamin Franklin, certainly, if not the other two Commission- 
ers, resided when in Montreal in the Chateau de Ramezay, 
and here a certain M. Mesplet, under the orders of Ben- 


jamin Franklin, set up the first printing-press in Mon- 

The first printing-press in Canada was set up in Quebec 
in 1764, and on the 2ist of June of that year the first num- 
ber of the Quebec Gazette^ a journal which till recently was 
still published, made its appearance. Benedict Arnold, 
after his failure at Quebec, went to Montreal and took 
command of the Revolutionary troops there. He resided 
in the Chateau de Ramezay. 

After the withdrawal of the Americans, the Chateau de 
Ramezay remained untenanted until the government bought 
it from the Grants, and made it the official residence of the 
Governors of Lower Canada temporarily resident in Mon- 
treal. Their permanent residence was at Quebec, and for 
years the Governors, when they visited Montreal, had to 
bring their own furniture with them. At last, however, a 
grant of money was voted to them for the purchase of 
permanent furniture for their Montreal residence. For half 
a century it was occupied by successive Governors, who 
made many alterations and additions. Lord Metcalfe 
(1843-1844) was the last resident Governor, the seat of 
Government between the years 1841 to 1858, being fixed 
successively at Quebec, Kingston, Montreal, then at 
Toronto and Quebec alternately, and finally, by Her 
Majesty's decision, at Ottawa, where it has since re- 

The union of the Provinces of Upper and Lower Can- 
ada was formerly proclaimed on the loth of February, 1841. 
After the establishment of the Governor-General in a new 


Government House, and again, when the headquarters of 
the provincial government of the Lower Province was trans- 
ferred to Quebec, the Chateau de Ramezay was used for 
various governmental purposes. Among others, the Law 
Courts sat there, and afterwards certain rooms were used 
for classes of the Normal School and of the Medical Fac- 
ulty of Laval. The extensive vaults and cellars below the 
house had in the Eighteenth Century been used by the 
French as store-houses for the large quantities of supplies 
which, owing to the hostility of the Indians it was neces- 
sary to maintain there. So incessant were at times the 
raids of the Iroquois, whether instigated by the New Eng- 
land Government or not, that cultivation was almost an im- 
possibility, and all food supplies had to be imported from 
France and stored in Montreal. Some of the vaults also 
were used as dungeons, and at times refractory Indian chiefs 
were probably incarcerated there to give them time to see 
reason ; while in some cases they were detained as hostages 
for the good faith of their tribe. There was also a deep 
well in one vault, now boarded over. Under the English 
Governors, these vaults were used as wine-cellars, servants' 
offices and quarters for the Governor's guard, for the preser- 
vation of the old French and English official and other rec- 
ords, and for the storage of fuel and supplies. In one vault we 
still find the kitchen. The huge fireplace was fitted up above 
with an arrangement for smoking ham and bacon, while on 
one side opened a large oven, about five feet in diameter, 
for baking bread. In a recess close by was hung a drum, 
in which worked, like a squirrel in a cage, the turnspit-dog 


that roasted the joints. In a corner of another vault still 
lies a portion of* the first system of water-pipes used in 
Montreal. It is the trunk of a tree, ten or twelve feet long, 
by nine or ten inches in diameter, hollowed out. The walls 
of the vaults are in some places of great thickness ; ranging 
from five to eight feet. In the early part of the Eighteenth 
Century, when a good house was built, it was solidly built. 
It is stated that some fifty years ago, soon after the Chateau 
ceased to be the residence of the Governors, the City Coun- 
cil authorized the demolition of a portion of it, in order to 
open up a thoroughfare. The building was thus cut in two. 
The portion which is now used as the museum was retained 
by the civic authorities. The remainder was turned into a 
hotel in which Jenny Lind and Charles Dickens, amongst 
others, are said to have stayed. Between 1880 and 1890 
the City Magistrates of Montreal meted out justice for petty 
misdemeanours in this building. Rooms which had been 
tenanted by a Governor-General, and which for a hundred 
and forty years had been the centre of the French and Brit- 
ish rule in Montreal thus gradually sank to the level of a po- 
lice magistrate's court. About this time, however, public 
attention was drawn to this building (largely owing to the 
exertions of the Numismatic and Antiquarian Society of 
Montreal), and to its antiquarian and historical interest. 
When, in 1893, ^ e Provincial Government offered it for 
sale by public auction, it was bought by the Corporation of 
the City of Montreal with the view of preserving the build- 
ing and establishing in it a free public, archaeological, scien- 
tific and historical musuem. In 1895, the custody of the 


Chateau, on behalf of the people of the city, was vested in 
the Numismatic and Antiquarian Society. 

It was in the Chateau de Ramezay that met from 1838 
to 1840, the Special Council (half English and half French), 
which was appointed by the Home Government to act in 
place of the legislature of Lower Canada during the Rebel- 
lion and so-called " Patriotic War " of 1837-1838. The 
Constitution was for the time suspended. The Special 
Council paved the way for the Act of Union of 1840, which 
was a step towards the present Constitution of the Do- 
minion. The confederation of 1866 was the final step. 

Two of the principal rooms in the Chateau are now 
known as the Salle du Conseil and the Library. With the 
former, tradition associates many names (already mentioned), 
well-known to history, and on whom the varying fortunes 
of Canada have depended. Its walls are now hung with 
engravings and documents that commemorate those names 
and those fortunes. The old fireplace in the Library has 
only recently been discovered, having been walled up for 
many years. The treasures that have already been collected 
in this, the first Canadian Museum of Antiquities, are most 
interesting and valuable, and some are unique. There are 
113 portraits, 82 historical pictures and 74 old prints, which 
illustrate the most celebrated names and the most famous 
scenes and events of Canadian history, from Jacques Car- 
tier to Sir John Macdonald. Early explorers, Jesuit mis- 
sionaries, governors and generals, both French and English ; 
old maps and prints of Canada, Quebec and Montreal, etc., 
are the subjects. In addition, there is a collection of scarce 


books, papers, documents and magazines connected with 
Canada, weapons of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centu- 
ries, and many quaint and curious relics both of war and 



IT is a great pity that the open space now known as City 
Hall Park is so restricted in area, because the City 
Hall is an admirable architectural edifice apart from its his- 
torical associations, and is worthy of a better setting. As it 
is, it suffers terribly from its surroundings, being dwarfed, 
crushed and overwhelmed, by the " World " building, office 
sky-scrapers and other unsightly buildings that surround it. 
If we want to realize the architect's intent, we must level 
the monster structures in the immediate vicinity and restore 
the scene of the date when the City Hall was designed. 

A tablet under the Mayor's office informs us that here 
Washington read the Declaration of Independence to the 
troops, but the City Hall did not occupy that site in those 
days. The present miniature park is a very small part of 
the original common land known as the " Commons," or 
the " Fields." Under the Dutch, this open space was 
called the Vlackte (the Flat). In Colonial days, the Bride- 
well, and the New Jail, and the stake at which negroes 
were occasionally burnt were situated on it. King's Col- 
lege was on the West ; on the North was the Collect Pond 
and the stream flowing to the Hudson through Lispenard's 
Meadow. A powder house also stood on the Commons 
and the old Boston Post Road (now Chatham St.) passed 


through it on the East. At the corner of Park Row and 
Nassau St. was the Brick Presbyterian Church. The Sons 
of Liberty used to assemble in the "Fields"; and the 
present Post Office covers the spot whereon the Liberty 
Pole was raised. 

.The first City Hall, or Stadt Huys, was modest enough. 
It was a stone house built for a tavern by Governor Kieft, 
in 1642. The site, on the " Waal," at the corner of Pearl 
St. and Coenties Alley, was selected on account of its being 
convenient to the ferry. Thirteen years later, it was ceded 
to the city authorities for the sittings of the Burgomasters 
and Schepens of New Amsterdam. It was used also as a 
prison. This old Dutch house, with its " crow-stepped " 
gable and cupola, stood till 1700. 

The next City Hall, which lasted throughout the Eight- 
eenth Century, was situated almost on the site of the pres- 
ent Sub-Treasury on Wall St. 

In 1800, the corporation of the city of New York felt 
the need of a more spacious and imposing civic building, 
so a prize of $350 was offered for a plan and elevations of 
a town-hall of four facades. One of those sent in received 
the approbation of the City Fathers two years later ; and 
the Common Council immediately appointed a building 
committee, and appropriated $25,000 for the work. The 
architect was a native of New York : his name was John 
McComb. Born in 1763, he had already gained distinction 
in his profession by his plans for the front of the Govern- 
ment House, Washington Hall, St. John's Church, the 
Murray St. and Bleecker St. churches, and many other 


public and private edifices in New York, Philadelphia, and 
other cities. 

Mr. McComb was quite abreast with the architectural 
tastes of his day. He had no sympathy with the Gothic 
style, nor is his work in the least reminiscent of the great 
Renaissance town-halls of the Netherlands. He seems to 
have almost slavishly followed the English school of archi- 
tects, particularly the Adam brothers and Sir William 
Chambers. The works of the latter especially were held in 
the highest esteem and admiration by the New York 

It is not difficult to trace the sources from which Mr. 
McComb derived his inspiration for a City Hall which even 
to-day is unsurpassed in dignity, simplicity, beauty and 
purity of design by any building of this kind in the country. 
Cross-sectioned north and south it strongly resembles the 
Register Office, Edinburgh, that was built by the Adams in 
1774. About the same date they were responsible for the 
Assembly Rooms, Glasgow, the stairway of which the one 
in the City Hall greatly resembles, but the latter is more 
graceful and better proportioned. In fact, the interior de- 
tails show an intimate acquaintance with the works of the 
Adam brothers. 

For the principal elevations, the architect went to Inigo 
Jones's plans for Whitehall Palace : with the exception of 
the Banqueting House, these had never been carried out. 
Sir William Chambers was closely followed in the exterior 
details; and Adam, Richardson, Soane, Campbell and 
Richardson, in the plan and interior work. 


When the site was chosen, it was considered that he 
would indeed be a wild dreamer who would expect the city 
to spread further up town than what is now City Hall 
Park : the chief facade therefore looked at the city lying 
below it, and the back towards the open country was left 
plain and unornamented, for who would ever see that side ? 

The front, therefore, was built of Stockbridge marble, the 
sides of Morrisania or Verplanck marble, and the rear of 
brown stone. The marble was carved by John Lemair, 
whom the architect held in high esteem. He wrote : u I 
have visited the carver's shop almost daily, and I have al- 
ways been pleased with Mr. Lemair's attention, mode of 
working and finishing the capitals, work which is not sur- 
passed by any in the United States and but seldom seen 
better executed in Europe and which for proportion and 
neatness of workmanship will serve as models for carvers 
in future." 

The work on the interior, however, was not so satisfac- 
tory j t e execution of the wood-carving is very inferior: 
there was a scarcity of good wood-carvers in New York at 
that date. On account of the scarcity of labour and funds, 
;t took ten years to build ; but on the whole the work was 
well done and economically, for it cost no more than half 
a million dollars. 

In the original design, a clock was placed in the centre 
window of the attic story front : this clock was not sup- 
plied till 1830, when it was placed in the cupola which 
was altered to receive it. This change was detrimental re 
the general effect as originally intended. 


In 1811, before it was quite completed, the Fourth of 
July was celebrated in the new City Hall ; and the Alder- 
men took up their quarters there in August of that year. 
From that time it became the nucleus of municipal life, and 
its grounds were visited for recreation as well as business. 
The park gave its name to the famous Park Theatre, that 
stood on the south-east side. 

A writer of the day describes the Park as " a piece of 
inclosed ground in front of the new City Hall, consisting 
of about four acres, planted with elms, planes, willows and 
catalpas, the surrounding foot-walk encompassed with rows 
of poplars. This beautiful grove in the middle of the city, 
combines in a high degree ornament with health and pleas- 
ure ; and to enhance the enjoyments of the place, the 
English and French reading-room, the Shakespeare gallery, 
and the theatre, offer ready amusement to the mind ; while 
the mechanic-hall, the London hotel and the New York 
gardens present instant refreshment to the body. Though 
the trees are but young, and of few years' growth, the Park 
may be pronounced an elegant and improving place." 

The artistic beauty of the building has more than once 
suffered from overzealous repairs and renovations. Two 
or three years ago, the exterior was scoured and cleaned 
with a sand-blast process that deprived the marble of all the 
mellow tones and tints with which Time had beautified it : 
but Time can also heal this wound. 

In 1858, at the great celebration in honour of the suc- 
cessful laying of the first Atlantic cable, there was a grand 
display of fireworks, during which a stray spark set fire to 


some inflammable material stored at base of the cupola. 
The latter was consumed, and the low dome over the 
stairway was also damaged. This was not the only dam- 
age done by this fire, for the clock was also destroyed, and 
the scales fell from the hands of Justice, the figure that 
surmounted the cupola. Moreover, when the old bell hang- 
ing there, that had so often clanged forth its alarm to 
summon the citizens, was removed, the cornice was in- 
jured. For several years, no effort was made to repair the 
damage; the windows were boarded up, and the facade 
remained smoke-blackened. When the work of repair was 
finally taken in hand, there was no attempt to restore any- 
thing but the general appearance of the original, so that 
both dome and cupola suffered in that Medean cauldron. 

The City Hall has often been the scene of important 
functions. On Feb. 22, 1819, a grand ball was given in 
honour of General Andrew Jackson j and in 1825, General 
Lafayette was escorted there immediately after his arrival 
at Castle Garden. A great dinner was given to him within 
its walls ; and in the " Portrait Room " he held public re- 
ceptions every day from twelve to two o'clock, during his 
stay in New York. 

Nearly every important foreigner and distinguished "guest 
of the nation " has been welcomed at the City Hall by the 
Mayor : a brilliant reception to Prince Henry of Prussia 
was among the latest. 

The City Hall, too, has frequently been illuminated in 
celebration of some event of importance. That of 1825, 
in honour of the opening of the Erie Canal was considered 


magnificent at the time. Considering that they had neither 
gas nor electricity, they did very well, for no less than 
2,306 lights were displayed, including wax candles, and 
lamps of various colours. There was a transparency on 
the front representing the Erie Canal, emblematical figures, 
etc., etc. There was also a lavish display of fireworks. 

Another remarkable demonstration occurred at the City 
Hall when the Croton Water Works were given to the 
city in 1842. There was a great procession and a foun- 
tain was formally opened in the City Hall Park. This 
was much admired ; and by manipulating the pipes the 
fountain was made to assume such shapes as the " Maid of 
the Mist," the " Croton Plume," the "Vase," the "Dome," 
the "Bouquet," the "Wheat Sheaf" and the "Weeping 


THE long low white mansion with its white colonnades 
surrounded by green lawns and tall shade trees 
standing some little distance from Pennsylvania Avenue is 
familiar to every one in the United States. Even those 
who have not visited the house and these are few in 
number know it well by means of pictures. Perhaps the 
prettiest view of the building is the less familiar one of the 
South Portico, below which the greensward stretches down 
almost to the Potomac and is broken by fountains and 
flower beds. The view is very pretty, too, from the Portico 
itself, embracing the shining river and the tall Monument 
on the right. 

We cannot help regretting that the first President of the 
United States was never an occupant of the White House 
and that he did not know it would be popularly called by 
a name associated with his wife. He took the greatest 
interest in the architectural plans for it, and with Mrs. 
Washington visited the mansion just before the arrival of 
Mr. and Mrs. Adams. 

The story of the White House is as follows: In 1792, 
the United States Government offered a prize of five 
hundred dollars for the best plan for the official residence 
of the President. The fortunate architect was James 
Hoban, an Irishman by birth, but at this time a resident 
of South Carolina. Hoban selected for his model the 
Duke of Leinster's new house in Dublin, built in the 


fashionable classic style of the day. The original plan 
for the Presidential mansion called for three stories, and 
Hoban suggested that wings adorned with colonnades 
should be added as need for extension arose. Public 
opinion, however, was aghast at such magnificence, and, 
although Washington liked the plan, the architect was 
obliged to modify it. 

The stone of which it is built was quarried at Rock 
Creek, near Washington. The corner-stone was laid by 
General Washington in 1792; but the house was not 
finished until 1799. By this time John Adams had 
become President of the United States and he and Mrs. 
Adams were the first occupants. Mrs. Adams's description 
shows very plainly that the Mansion was not, in any sense, 
palatial. She says in one of her chatty letters : 

" The house is upon a grand and superb scale, requiring 
about thirty servants to attend and keep the apartments in 
proper order, and perform the ordinary business of the 
house and stables an establishment very well proportioned 
to the President's salary. The lighting the apartments 
from the kitchen to parlours and chambers is a tax indeed, 
and the fires we are obliged to keep to secure us from daily 
agues is another very cheering comfort ! To assist us in 
this castle, and render less attendance necessary, bells are 
wholly wanting, not one single one being hung through 
the whole house, and promises are all you can obtain. 
This is so great an inconvenience that I know not how to 
do, or what to do. . . . We have not the least fence, 
yard or other conveniences without, and the great unfinished 


audience-room [the East Room] I make a drying-room of to 
hang my clothes in. Six chambers are made comfortable; 
two lower rooms, one for a parlour and one for a ballroom." 

Little or nothing was done to make the Executive 
Mansion more sumptuous during either Jefferson's or 
Madison's administrations ; and it must have been a sur- 
prise to visitors from other parts of the world to see such a 
simple dwelling. Writing home in 1804, Thomas Moore 
says : " The President's house is encircled by a very rude 
pale, through which a common rustic stile introduced 

The Madisons, whose home it became in 1809, were 
noted for the old-fashioned Virginia hospitality that they 
extended to those invited to both public and private entertain- 
ments. The famous Dolly Madison was a gracious hostess, 
and her abundant table did not escape criticism. 

The Madisons were compelled to flee from the house on 
the approach of the British troops in 1814. Many stories 
are told of how Mrs. Madison saved the valued portrait of 
Washington that had been hanging in the State Dining- 
Room since 1800 ; but her own is the best. Mrs. 
Madison did not cut the picture from the frame as the 
legend has it, but ordered this to be done. Just before her 
flight, she writes to her sister on the 23d of August, 

" My husband left me yesterday morning to join General 
Winder. He inquired anxiously whether I had courage or 
firmness to remain in the President's House until his 
return on the morrow, or succeeding day, and on my 


assurance that I had no fear but for him, and the success 
of our army, he left, beseeching me to take care of myself, 
and of the Cabinet papers, public and private. I have 
since received two despatches from him written with a 
pencil. The last is alarming, because he desires I should 
be ready at a moment's warning to enter my carriage and 
leave the city ; that the enemy seemed stronger than had at 
first been reported, and it might happen that they would 
reach the city with the intention of destroying it. I am 
accordingly ready ; I have pressed as many Cabinet papers 
into trunks as to fill one carriage ; our private property 
must be sacrificed, as it is impossible to procure wagons 
for its transportation. I am determined not to go myself 
until I see Mr. Madison safe so that he can accompany me, 
as I hear of much hostility towards him." 

After the Battle of Bladensburg, she continues : 
" Our kind friend Mr. Carroll has come to hasten my 
departure, and in a very bad humour with me, because 
I insist on waiting until the large picture of General 
Washington is secured, and it requires 'to be unscrewed 
from the wall. The process was found too tedious for 
these perilous moments; I have ordered the frame to be 
broken and the canvas taken out. It is done ! and the 
precious portrait placed in the hands of two gentlemen 
from New York for safe keeping. And now, dear sister, 
I must leave the house, or the retreating army will make 
me a prisoner in it by filling up the road I am directed to 
take. Where I shall again write to you, or where I shall 
be to-morrow I cannot tell ! DOLLY." 


The British troops entered the Mansion and set fire to it. 
" I have indeed to this hour," wrote an eye-witness in 1855, 
" the vivid impression upon my eye of columns of smoke and 
flame ascending all through the night of August 24, 1814, 
from the Capitol, President's house and other public build- 
ings, as if the whole were on fire, some burning slowly 
others with bursts of flames, and sparks mounting high in 
the dark heavens.'' 

This spectator was with President Madison, the Sec- 
retary of the Navy and others across the river, watching 
the spectacle. 

After the fire of 1814, the Madisons lived in rented 
houses in Washington. 

When the Mansion was partially restored and again 
made habitable, the blackened exterior was painted white 
and the building received the name White House in 
honour of Mrs. Washington's early home in Virginia. 
President and Mrs. Monroe held the first public reception 
in 1818, on New Year's Day. 

The White House was refurnished in 1825, for the 
visit of General Lafayette. Congress allowed John 
Quincy Adams $14,000 for this purpose. Another allow- 
ance of $13,000 was made to Martin Van Buren for 
further decorations and furnishings, and President Johnson 
was allowed $30,000 to repair the building after the Civil 

The portico on the North Side was added in President 
Jackson's time. 

The most important changes, however, have taken place 


during President Roosevelt's administration. About half a 
million dollars have been spent in making architectural im- 
provements, both within and without. A terrace has been 
added on the west side, leading to the executive offices, and 
by the removal of the conservatory, the state dining-room 
has been enlarged. This room has also been refurnished 
with panels, tapestries and trophies of the chase. 

The historical rooms are the great " East Room," where 
the public receptions are held and where the brilliant mar- 
riages of Nelly Grant and Alice Roosevelt took place ; the 
"State-Dining-room"; the "Red Room," the "Blue 
Room" and the "Green Room"; and although the 
furniture and draperies of these rooms have been changed 
from time to time, the colours have been rigidly adhered to. 

The " Blue Room," of which Jefferson was particularly 
fond, is the President's reception-room. It is oval in 
shape. At present the walls are covered with blue silk and 
the window curtains are blue sprinkled with golden stars. 

Scattered through the various rooms are many portraits 
of the Presidents and their wives. 

The conservatory of the White House, which owes 
much to President Grant, has always been noted, and sup- 
plies choice flowers and plants for the state dinners and 
other important entertainments. 

The White House is full of memories and associations 
of the public and private life of the Presidents. Weddings, 
funerals, and births have occurred here. Within its walls 
President Lincoln signed the Proclamation of Emancipa- 
tion. Here Garfield languished for weeks after his assassi- 


nation. The last notable event was the wedding of Miss 
Alice Roosevelt, the President's daughter, to Mr. Nicholas 
Longworth, the most brilliant entertainment that the 
White House has ever seen. 


ONE of the Meccas of the Southern States is a house 
in Richmond formerly known as " The White 
House of the Confederacy," and now as " The Confed- 
erate Museum." It is a plain, substantial house with col- 
umns at the back and is a typical residence of Richmond 
and of the Nineteenth Century. The house was built in 
1819 by Dr. Brockenbrough for his residence and must 
have been more imposing with the original garden. 

In 1862 Mr. Lewis Crenshaw, the owner, sold it to the 
city of Richmond for the use of the Confederate Govern- 
ment; and the city, having, offered it to Jeffer- 
son Davis, the President of the Confederate States for his 
residential and official home. Mr. Davis refused to accept 
the gift, and it was then rented from the Confederate States 
for the " Executive Mansion." President Davis and his 
family lived here for three years until the evacuation of 
Richmond, when he left with the government officials on 
the night of April 2, 1865. The "Mississippi Room" 
was his study, and in it all the important conferences of the 
President and his officers were held. It may be interesting 
to quote here from Mrs. Davis v s Memoirs of Jefferson Davis, 
regarding this historic house. She writes : 

" In July we moved to the old Brockenbrough house, and 
began to feel somewhat more at home when walking through 


the old-fashioned terraced garden or the large airy rooms in 
the seclusion of family life. 

"The mansion stands on the brow of a steep and very 
high hill that is sharply defined against the plain at its foot 
through which runs the Danville railway that leads to the 
heart of Virginia. The house is very large, but the rooms 
are comparatively few, as some of them are over forty feet 
square. The ceilings are high, the windows wide and the 
well-staircases turn in easy curves towards the airy rooms 
above. The Carrara marble mantels were the delight of 
our children. . . . 

44 The tastes, and to some extent, the occupations and 
habits of the master of the house, if he, as in this case, as- 
sisted the architect in his design, are built in the brick and 
mortar, and like the maiden's blood in the great bell, they 
proclaim aloud sympathy or war with those whom it shelters. 
One felt here the pleasant sense of being in the home of a 
cultivated, liberal, fine gentleman, and that he had dwelt 
there in peaceful interchange of kind offices with his neigh- 
bours. The garden, planted in cherry, apple and pear- 
trees sloped in steep terraces down the hill to join the plain 
below. To this garden or pleasance came always in my 
mind's eye a lovely woman, seen only by the eye of faith, 
as she walked there in c maiden meditation/ 

" Every old Virginia gentleman of good social position 
who came to see us, looked pensively out on the grounds 
and said, with a tone of regret, something like this : c This 
House was perfect when lovely Mary Brockenbrough used to 
walk there, singing among the flowers ' ; and then came a 


description of her light step, her dignified mien, her sweet 
voice and the other graces which take hold of our hearts 
with a gentle touch and hold them with a grip of steel. At 
first it seemed odd and we regretted our visitor's disappoint- 
ment, but after a while Mary came to us, too, and remained 
the titular goddess of the garden. Her name became a 
household word. 4 Whether Mary would approve ' was 
a question my husband playfully asked, when he liked the 
arrangement of the drawing-rooms." 

When General Godfrey Witzel, in command of the 
Northern troops entered the city on the morning of April 
3, 1865, ne made this house his headquarters; and it was 
used as the headquarters of the United States Government 
during the five years that Virginia was under military rule 
and was called " District No. I." When Abraham Lincoln 
passed through Richmond a few days after the evacuation, 
he was received in the " Georgia room " of this old 

After the war " The White House of the Confederacy " 
became the home of the first public school established in 
Richmond and was used as such for more than twenty years. 
Finally, to save it from destruction, for the house was fail- 
ing into decay, a mass-meeting was held in Richmond to 
take measures for its preservation. A society was formed 
called the " Confederate Memorial Literary Society " whose 
first act was to petition the city to yield it to its charge for 
the purpose of establishing a Museum of Confederate relics 
and a memorial to President Davis. 


The Museum was formally opened in 1890. Quoting 
from the charter : 

" The purposes for which it is formed are to establish in 
the city of Richmond, in the State of Virginia, the capital 
of the late Confederate States of America, a Confederate 
Memorial Literary Society or Association, to collect and re- 
ceive, by gift, purchase, or otherwise, all books and other 
literary productions pertaining to the late war between the 
States, and of those engaged therein ; all works of art or 
science, all battle-flags, relics, and other emblems of that 
struggle, and to preserve and keep the same for the use of 
said Society and the public." 

A room, bearing the distinctive name, shield, and colours 
of the State it represents, is assigned to each State of the 
Confederacy, and is a repository for memorials from that 
State. A Regent and Vice-Regent are appointed to repre- 
sent each State and to assume the care and expense of their 
respective rooms collecting by loan, donation, or other- 
wise, contributions of what they think will make their rooms 

The Solid South is represented by a general reception 
room, library and gallery in which the portraits of the Presi- 
dent of the Confederate States and of his Cabinet as well as 
those of the distinguished civil and military leaders are 
hung. On the left is the " Virginia Room " and on the 
right the " Georgia Room " and beyond that the " Missis- 
sippi Room," in which the Confederate Cabinet sat. The 
relics of Jefferson Davis are appropriately placed here. The 


Kentucky, Alabama, South and North Carolina and Mary- 
land Rooms are in the second story, and in the third, the 
Alabama, Arkansas, Tennessee, Florida, Missouri, Louisi- 
ana and Texas Rooms are situated. 

The collection is exceedingly large and of great interest 
to the student of the great struggle of 1861-1865. 



THE Old State House stands upon the site of the orig- 
inal market-place, opposite the first meeting-house 
in which, for a quarter of a century, the town-meetings 
were held, according to the custom of the time. 

In the year 1656 Captain Robert Keayne, one of the 
founders of the Ancient and Honourable Artillery Company, 
left, in his voluminous and eccentric will, " the sum of 
three hundred pounds, current money," for a Town House, 
which was to furnish room for the market, as well as for 
the courts, a library, an exchange, an armoury, etc. An 
equal amount was contributed by citizens, and a wooden 
structure was erected on this spot which served the purposes 
of the town until it was destroyed in the great fire of 1711. 
There are good descriptions extant of this first building, but 
no pictures or plans. It was the scene of the administra- 
tion of Endicott, Bellingham, Leverett, Bradstreet, Andros, 
Phips, Stoughton, Bellomont, and Joseph Dudley. By this 
time the Town House had become such a necessity that its 
successor was immediately provided for, one-half the ex- 
penses being borne by the Province, and the other half by 
the Town and the Country in equal proportion. 

The first Governor who presided in this building was 
Joseph Dudley, and after him came Tailer, Shute, Dummer 

1 From Rambles in Old Boston (Boston, 1887). By permission of th 
publishers, Messrs. Cupples, Upham, and Company. 


Burnet, Belcher, and Shirley. It was during the latter's 
brilliant a ministration that the famous expedition against 
Louisburg was planned and successfully carried out in 1 746 
under General (afterwards Sir William Pepperell) and Com- 
modore Warren. 

The following year the Town House (at that time com- 
monly called the Court House) was seriously injured 
by fire, which began in the second story and destroyed much 
of the interior, and nearly all the records, pictures and 
furniture. The building, however, was reconstructed very 
much as before ; and from that day to this, no essential 
changes have taken place in its appearance. 

An interesting description of it is found in a journal dated 

" They have also a Town House, built of brick, situated 
in King's Street. It's a very Grand Brick Building, Arch'd 
all Round and Two Storie Heigh, Sash'd above ; its Lower 
Part is always open, design'd as a Change, tho the Merchants 
in Fair Weather make their Change in the Open Street, at 
the eastermost end. In the Upper Story are the Council 
and Assembly Chambers. It has a neat Capulo, Sash'd all 
Round, which on rejoycing days is Elluminated." 

The administrations of Pownall, Bernard, and Hutchin- 
son bring us to the stirring events immediately preceding the 
Revolutionary War. At that time many eyes were turned 
to this building in hope or fear, as the scene of the royal 
authority in the Council Chamber, and of the popular de- 
mands for Liberty in the Hall of Representatives. The 
obnoxious measures of the Crown, which followed so rap- 



dly upon the accession of George III. in 1760, were here 
officially promulgated by the Governors, and vehemently 
denounced by the patriots. 

The collision which finally came in 1775, was foreshad- 
owed in the speeches of James Otis and Samuel Adams, in 
the protests of the Legislature against the unjust imposition 
of taxes, in the arrival of the British regiments, and in the 
massacre of March 5, 1770, which occurred almost under 
the windows of the Council Chamber. 

The quartering of troops in the Town House and the 
planting of cannon at its doors gave great offence to the 
people, and served only to increase the difficulty. Under 
General Gage, the last of the Royal Governors, were de- 
veloped those military movements which made Lexington, 
Concord and Bunker Hill immortal, and which led to the 
organization of an American army, by whose achievements 
the British were compelled to evacuate Boston on the I7th 
of March, 1776. 

In July of the same year, the Declaration of Independ- 
ence was read to the citizens of Boston from the famous 
east window of the Council Chamber, where in the earlier 
time the Royal succession had been in three instances pro- 
claimed "with Beat of Drum and Blast of Trumpet," and 
where also had been announced in turn the appointment of 
eight governors of Massachusetts under the Crown, and 
where at last, in 1783, the Proclamation of Peace was read 
by the Sheriff of Suffolk, amid the grateful shouts of the 
multitude and the salutes of thirteen cannon at the forts. 

In this building John Hancock was inaugurated the first 


Governor under the Commonwealth j and here presided his 
successors, James Bowdoin, Samuel Adams, and Increase 
Sumner. In 1789, General Washington, during his last 
visit to Boston, reviewed the procession from a temporary 
balcony erected at the west end of the Hall of Representa- 

Here the Legislature of Massachusetts met for the last 
time in 1798, and then marched in a body to the more 
imposing structure which had just been completed on 
Beacon Hill. 

The old building has since then been given up to busi- 
ness purposes, except during an interval of ten years, 
1830-1839, when it was occupied by the municipality as 
a City Hall. 

In 1882, it was carefully restored and formally re-dedi- 
cated to the public use as a memorial hall. The second 
floor, containing the ancient Council Chamber and Repre- 
sentatives Hall, has been confided to the custody of the 
Bostonian Society for a term of years. Valuable portraits, 
engravings, documents, and other historical relics may here 
be inspected daily by the public without charge. The 
tower, the quaint roof, the lion and unicorn, the central 
stairway, and, in fact, all the details of the building, present 
with almost absolute accuracy the characteristic features of 
the old Town House of the fathers. And it is confidently 
believed that the venerable structure will continue to grow 
more and more in the affections of the people of Boston, 
because it was here that "the child Independence was 


COMMANDING an extensive view, or " prospect," 
as they would have said in Colonial days, of the 
Harlem River and Long Island Sound, there stands a dwell- 
ing of the Georgian period famous under two names, the 
41 Morris House" and the "Jumel Mansion." The house 
was built by Colonel Roger Morris, an English officer who 
came to this country with General Braddock and was 
wounded in the ill-fated expedition to Fort Du Quesne. 
He also served under General Wolfe at Quebec and left 
the army in 1764 to settle in New York, where he became 
a member of the King's Council. He bought the property 
on Harlem Heights and erected the house now standing as 
a present for his wife, Mary Philipse, daughter of Frederick 
Philipse, whom he married in 1758. The Morrises made 
a charming home here and entertained with lavish hospi- 
tality the most distinguished guests until the beginning of 
the Revolution, when, being Tories, they were forced to 
leave their house. Eventually, included in the bill of at- 
tainder, they went to England, and their house and prop- 
erty in Harlem Heights were confiscated and sold. 

Immediately after the battle of Long Island, August 27, 
1776, General Washington retreated with his army to 
Harlem and selected the Morris House for his head- 
quarters. Here Aaron Burr, associated with the later des- 
iimes of the house, served as secretary to Washington. 

One day, after nearly three months' residence, Wash- 


: ngton started out on a reconnoitering expedition and about 
fifteen minutes after he had left, the British troops under 
Sir Thomas Stirling took possession of this desirable place ; 
and from that moment until the evacuation of New York 
in 1783, the "Morris House" was the headquarters of 
General Knyphausen and his Hessian soldiers. 

In 1785, the house became a tavern and was used as 
such for several years. It next looms into importance in 
1810, when it was purchased by Stephen Jumel, whose 
handsome and clever American wife and the society that 
she gathered around her brought it once more into notoriety. 

There have been several conflicting stories regarding 
Madame JumePs parentage ; but Mr. Josiah Collins 
Pumpelly in an article published in the New England 
Genealogical and Biographical Record (1903) obtained the 
following statement from a relative: "Eliza (Bowen) 
Jumel was born, April 2, 1777, in Providence, R. L, but 
not in a poor-house, as was asserted by her enemies 
during the lawsuit,, The statement made in Appleton's 
Cyclopaedia of National Biography that the lady's name was 
Capet, and that she was born at sea, is not sustained by 
reliable history. Eliza Jumel was the daughter of Phoebe 
and John Bowen. Her father was a sea-captain and 
owned his own vessels ; her brother and father were 
drowned together." 

In 1804, she was married to Stephen Jumel, a rich coffee 
planter of San Domingo, who, during an insurrection on the 
island and massacre of the French, escaped to New York 
about 1790. He was much older than his beautiful bride i 


for at the time of his marriage he was nearly fifty and she 
twenty-seven. In 1810, they purchased the " Morris 
House " on Harlem Heights where they lived in great 
style. Subsequently the Jumels had a home in Paris, 
where they also entertained sumptuously until M. Jumel's 
large fortune melted away. In 1821, Madame Jumel re- 
turned to her New York home. It seems that Madame 
Jumel immediately disposed of her rich furniture and other 
treasures, for in 1821 the following advertisement appears 
in the New York newspapers : " On Monday, the i6th 
of April next, at the Mansion House of Mrs. Jumel, 
Harlem Heights, the whole of her Furniture and Gallery 
of original Paintings, together with Kitchen Furniture, 
Carriages^ Horses, and other implements on the premises. 
Any attempt to describe those superb and elegant articles 
would hardly convey an idea of what they are; and as 
people will be at liberty to go and see them one week pre- 
vious to the sale, it is deemed sufficient to say that such a 
collection has never been offered to the public and con- 
noisseurs in this country ; being a careful selection made in 
Paris by the best judges from the museum and palace of 
the late Emperor." 

M. Jumel returned to New York in 1828 and recovered 
his lost fortune. From that date till his death in 1832, the 
house again witnessed scenes of gay society. Among the 
distinguished visitors at this period were Joseph Bo'iaparte 
and Louis Napoleon. 

Again to quote from Mr. Pumpelly : 

u After the death of her husband Madame Jumel carried 


on her business affairs by herself. She displayed in them 
excellent judgment and ability. The varied experiences of 
her life had sharpened her faculties, and the poor Rhode 
Island girl, with whom scandal had made free, had 
developed into a woman of culture, tact and superior 
powers. She furnished her mansion with somewhat of its 
former splendour. It displayed abundant souvenirs of the 
First Empire and its renowned master. There were eight 
chairs which had belonged to the First Consul, a table, the 
marble top of which had been brought to her from Egypt, a 
clock which the Emperor had used in the Tuilleries, a 
chandelier that he had once given to Moreau, tapestries and 
paintings which had been collected by Josephine ; also a set 
of drawing-room furniture which had once been owned by 
Charles X. ; a bedstead upon which Napoleon had slept for 
many months and his army chest. Visitors also told of a 
stand that was said to have belonged to Voltaire, a black 
leather trunk which was supposed to have been used by 
Napoleon on the march to Moscow, and an elaborate 
embroidery of flowers surrounded by a golden chain, which 
had been made by the Empress. On the furniture was 
emblazoned the symbolic ' N ' of the Empire in com- 
memoration of its great chief." 

In 1833, Madame Jumel was married in the drawing- 
room of this historic house to Aaron Burr. After her 
death in 1865, the house became the property of Mr. 
Nelson Chase, whose first wife was Madame Jumel's 
niece. It now belongs to the Daughters of the American 



THE next morning we sally forth early under a 
tropical sky of burning blue and take our way to 
the market, a bright and busy scene, and cool and pleasant 
even this hot day, the breeze blowing gently through the 
long airy sheds, supported by open archways, the abundant 
array of fruit and flowers and vegetables refreshing to the 
eye. The negro element is in almost exclusive possession 
behind the stalls, the white in front, but not exclusively, 
There is a negro majority in South Carolina, in the market 
as well as elsewhere. Here are all shades of black, yellow 
and brown ; here a good-looking brown girl with immense 
gold earrings, sits half hidden behind tempting great heaps 
of rosy tomatoes, golden Florida oranges and crimson 
plantains ; there an old woman, black as a coal, coifed in a 
gorgeous striped bandana, presses green peas upon our atten- 
tion ; here the tourist is buying bananas and the housekeeper 
pricing pineapples. 

We linger among the fruit-stalls and do not hurry our- 
selves past the fishmonger's department, where the cool 
shining fish lie on slabs spread with green leaves. But we 
hasten through the butcher's quarter ; it is too hot to look 
at raw beef. We observe strutting about here, picking up 
pieces under the stalls and perching over the doorways, a 
number of large birds, which we take at first for turkeys. 


They are, however., buzzards, unfit to eat, but useful in 
picking up offal, and therefore encouraged about this quarter 
of the market. 

Returning to the main street of Charleston, we pass by 
the ruins of the old church. 

" Burnt during the war, of course ? " 
" No, madam, burnt by accident before the war." 
There its ruined and blackened walls stand still, the long 
grass growing where aisle and altar were. We pass by the 
shops and soon come to the private houses, pretty and pic- 
turesque detached villas (residences " unattached," are, of 
course the rule in these warm climes). Many are surrounded 
by their own gardens ; some nestle in the shadow of tall 
trees ; others are buried from basement to roof in the lux- 
uriant purple blossoms of the wisteria. At the end of this 
street we come upon the Battery, the most beautiful spot 
in this beautiful city by the sea. 

Here, facing the strip of park which lies between them 
and the water, stand the finest residences in Charleston, 
built in the palmy days before the war, some of them sur- 
vivals of the old Colonial times. No two of these hand- 
some houses are alike; each is stamped with its own char- 
acter and individuality; they are of all styles Greek, 
Gothic, Elizabethan, and nondescript, and of all pale tints 
of cool grey, white, and light brown. They all luxuriate 
in balconies, piazzas, verandahs, and every device for en- 
joying an almost tropical air in shade and sunshine, and 
many of them rejoice in their own shadowing trees. The 
scorching breath of the Southern summer has not yet rusted 


the green of the turf and tree ; the grass in the Battery Park 
is the richest velvet sward that our feet have ever pressed ; 
the spring-leafage of the scrub-oaks is fresh and tender, 
though the warmer tints of autumn linger yet here and there 
among the boughs. At the further border of the long nar- 
row slip of park is a fine sea-wall, beyond which the sleepy 
waters of Charleston Harbour lap the stone of the embank- 
ment. Here on the Battery stand various monuments, one, 
of course, in memory of " the brave who are no more." It 
is here, all along this walk, that the ladies of Charleston 
collected in crowds, on one memorable I2th of April, to 
watch the bombardment of Fort Sumter in the distance. 

Fort Sumter, of course, is the first excursion the tourist 
takes from this city. A short cut through the market leads 
us to the wharf where the little paddle-steamer waits to 
carry us thither. The sun blazes fiercely in a heaven of 
dazzling sapphire blue, the little waves lap and gurgle softly 
in transparent ripples of emerald, as the boat cuts its calm 
way along. We pass the sunny shores, the green trees and 
white villas of Mount Pleasant well so named ! we pass 
Sullivan's Island ; we near Fort Moultrie ; and now we are 
in sight of Sumter. The deck is crowded with excursion- 
ists, most of them Northern tourists; there are a few 
Southerners, one or two Germans we discover no English 
except ourselves. We make acquaintance with some of 
cur fellow-passengers j all seem sociably inclined j all gather 
together along the bulwarks at the first sight of Fort Sum- 
ter. Here are North and South s "Yankee" and rebel 
harmoniously and amicably associating on a pleasure excur- 


sion to the scene of the first conflict of the terrible four 
years' struggle, the spot where " twenty years and more " 
ago, that first shot was fired which rang through the civi- 
lized world, which thrilled like a bugle-call through the 
hearts of North and South, and " let slip the dogs of war " 
to their dreadful work. Here this morning are the men 
who wore the vanquished grey and those of the victorious 
blue, brothers once more ! In sight of the shattered walls 
of Sumter, no word except of friendliness is heard, 

We observe in the conversation of the various groups 
that they one and all delicately refrain from speaking of the 
" other side " in audible tones except as " Federal " and 
" Confederate," although to each other, in their sotto voce 
discourse, we catch the old terms " Yank " and " Reb " 
passing freely. 

The Federal element, as represented on board this boat, 
does not appear very well informed as to the facts and de- 
tails of the siege. We inquire in vain : How many were 
in the fort ? What was the besieging force ? How many 
lives were lost ? In answer to this last question, there are a 
variety of answers, apparently most of them conjectural, 
and ranging from " three hundred " down to " none." 

" It was from Fort Moultrie yonder that the first gun 
was fired," observes one tourist, drawing from his next 
neighbour the mild correction : " Pardon me, sir, the very 
first shot was from Fort Johnson." 

Hereupon both parties pull out of their pockets no, not 
revolvers, but little blue paper covered " Guides to Charles- 


Meanwhile we are drawing nearer and nearer to the low, 
sandy island that is the goal of our excursion. We won- 
der, as we look on that barren sand-heap scorching in the 
yellow sand-glare, was that^ once upon a time, the lofty 
fort of Sumter ? Could ever those fragments of battered 
wall have towered up towards these blue skies in proud de- 
fiance ? In fancy, we see the pall of smoke wrap Sumter 
round again, hear the thunder of the cannonade, and above 
the " burning battlehell " of fire and smoke, we see stream- 
ing to the wind the ghost of the " Stars and Bars ! " 

We land on the little pier, and pick our way along nar- 
row planks laid across the heavy sand, amongst heaps of 
cannon balls, old guns, new guns, up steps, down steps, un- 
derground and overground, in and out of gloomy bomb- 
proofs, from the loopholes of which the " dogs of war " 
thrust forth their huge, black muzzles. One of the little 
garrison of the fort shows us round, and acts as general 
cicerone to our party. He answers our questions the 
Northern tourists put quite as many as we strangers do ; is 
it not twenty-two years since the siege ? A whole world 
behind to them j but our soldier-guide has the whole story 
fresh in his mind. So has a bronzed and grizzled South- 
erner, who now for the first time, in the subterranean shades 
of a bombproof-tunnel, comes to the fore, and thenceforth 
divides public interest and attention with the lawful cicerone. 

Somebody puts to this new authority the old question 
how many lives were lost in the opening bombardment ? 

" Not one, sir," is the prompt answer, " not one by the 
Confederate attack. Seems strange, but so 'tis. There 


was one lift lost, and that was after the fort had surrendered. 
A man was blown up and killed. He laid a mine, as a trap 
to blow up the Confederates, and he tripped his foot, 
stumbled, and touched it off, and was killed by his own 

A gentle smile of contemplative satisfaction irradiated the 
Confederate's countenance as he narrated this anecdote of 
which we afterwards heard divers and contrasting versions. 
I was walking with a gentleman from Massachusetts, but, as 
my escort did not appear able to feed my feminine curiosity 
with all the details I desired, I drew the better-informed 
Confederate authority to join us; and we rambled on in 
an exemplarily harmonious trio. 

Our Southerner was brimming over with reminiscences, 
all uttered in dulcet and lamb-like tones which would well 
have befitted an idyllic love-story. 

" With a seven-inch bore, like this," he observed, resting 
his boot-heel tenderly on a big gun that lay half buried in 
the sand, " we sunk the first monitor that came along. Hit 
the turret and made her careen, and then the lower battery 
took her right between wind and water." 

He smiled softly, as if cherishing sweet and tender 

" I put a little Confederate flag on the buoy out there," 
he continued, pointing to a spot on the sunny water, " and 
it stayed there all the time." 

" Didn't we come after it ? " inquired the tourist from 

" Oh, yes ; the Federals, they came after it several times ; 


but they didn't happen to get it," the mild Carolinian re- 
plied in his soft lingering drawl. 

I do not know how much or how little correct history 
was current amongst us that day ; but there certainly was a 
good deal of information to be had for the asking. 

" Getting ready for our cousins ! " observed a New York 
girl, patting a fine new gun approvingly. 

" What cousins ? " I inquired. 

"Our English cousins," was the reply. "They might 
take a fancy to come over here ! " 

" 1 don't think we want to come over, except as tourists, 
as we have come to day," I observed, mildly deprecating. 

" I guess you and the Southerners have had enough of 
that," replied the young lady contentedly. 

Our bronzed Southerner was picking up a sea-shell from 
the sand as a souvenir for me, and, probably by way of a 
coal of fire, he picked up a finer shell for her, and polished 
it with his pocket handkerchief. 

In every group some chapter of the story of the siege 
was being told I fear occasionally coloured according to 
the bias of the narrator. The names of Beauregard, Sher- 
man, Lee, Anderson, were echoing on every side. Indeed 
it was not 1883, it was 1861, in which we all lived that 
hour ! 

Time was up ; the whistle sounded. \Ve left the sandy 
isle of Fort Sumter deserted now, save for a little garri- 
son to be counted on the fingers of one hand and returned 
to our boat, and to the present year of our Lord, 1883. 



THE object of greatest attraction to the visitor at New- 
port is the Old Tower or windmill, as it is some- 
times called. On the subject of its erection history and 
tradition are silent, and the object of its construction is alike 
unknown and conjectural. It is a huge cylinder composed 
of unhewn stones common granite, slate, sandstone, and 
pudding-stone cemented with coarse mortar, made of the 
soil on which the structure stands, and shell lime. It rests 
upon eight round columns, a little more than three feet in 
diameter and ten feet high from the ground to the spring of 
the arches. The wall is three feet thick, and the whole 
edifice is twenty four feet high. The external diameter is 
twenty-three feet. Governor Gibbs informed me that, on 
excavating the base of one of the pillars, he found the soil 
about four feet deep, lying upon a stratum of hard rock, 
and that the foundation of the column, which rested upon 
this rock, was composed of rough-hewn spheres of stone^ 
the lower ones about four feet in circumference. On the 
interior, a little above the arches, are small square niches, 
in depth about half the thickness of the wall, designed ap- 
parently to receive floor-timbers. In several places within, 
as well as upon the inner surface of some of the columns, 
are patches of stucco, which, like the mortar, is made of 
coarse sand and shell lime, and as hard as the stone it cov- 



ers. Governor Gibbs remembers the appearance of the 
tower when it was partially covered with the same hard 
stucco upon its exterior surface. Doubtless it was origi- 
nally covered within and without with plaster, and the now 
rough columns, with mere indications of capitals and bases 
of the Doric form, were handsomely wrought, the whole 
structure exhibiting taste and beauty. During the posses- 
sion of Rhode Island by the British in the Revolution, the 
tower was more perfect than now, and the walls were three 
or four feet higher than at present* The British used it 
for an ammunition magazine, and when they evacuated the 
island, they attempted to demolish the old "mill," by 
igniting a keg of powder within it. But the strong walls 
resisted the vandals, and the only damage the edifice 
sustained was the loss of its roof and two or three feet 
of its upper masonry. Such is the Old Tower at New- 
port. Its early history is yet unwritten and may forever 
remain so. 

There has been much patient investigation, with a great 
deal of speculation, concerning chis ancient edifice., but no 
satisfactory conclusion has yet been obtained. Of its ex- 
istence prior to the English emigration to America there is 
now but little doubt ; and it is asserted that the Indians^ of 
whom Mr. Coddington and other early settlers upon 
Aquitneck (now Rhode Island) solicited information con- 
cerning the structure, had no tradition respecting its origin, 
Because it was called a " mill " in some old documents, 
some have argued, or rather, have flippantly asserted, that 
it was built by the early English settles s for a windmill. 


Thus Mr. Cooper disposes of the matter in his preface 
to Red Rover. A little patient inquiry would have given 
him a different conclusion; and if the structure is really 
ante-colonial, and perhaps ante-Columbian, its history 
surely is worthy of investigation. That it was converted 
into and used for a windmill by some of the early settlers 
of Newport, there is no doubt, for it was easily convertible 
to such use, although not by a favourable arrangement. 
The English settlement upon the island was commenced in 
1636, at the north end, and in 1639 the first house was 
erected on the site of Newport, by Nicholas Easton. 
Mention is made in the Colonial records of a windmill by 
Peter Easton, in 1663, twenty-five years after the founding 
of Newport j and this was evidently the first mill erected 
there, from the fact that it was considered of sufficient im- 
portance to the Colony to induce the General Court to 
reward Mr. Easton for his enterprise, by a grant of a tract 
of fine land, a mile in length, lying along what is still known 
as Ration's Beach. That mill was a wooden structure, and 
stood upon the land now occupied by the North Burying- 
ground in the upper suburbs of Newport, The land on 
which the tower stands once belonged to Governor Benedict 
Arnold, and in his will, bearing the date of 1678, forty 
years after the settlement, he mentions the " stone-mill," 
the tower having evidently been used for that purpose. Its 
form, its great solidity, and its construction upon columns, 
forbid the idea that it was originally erected for a mill ; and 
certainly, if a common windmill made of timber was so 
highly esteemed by the people, as we have seen, the con- 


struction of such an edifice, so superior to any dwelling or 
church in the colony, would have received special attention 
from the magistrates and the historians of the day. And 
wherefore, for such a purpose, were the foundation-stones 
wrought into spheres and the whole structure stuccoed 
within and without? 

When, in 1837, the Royal Society of Northern Anti- 
quaries of Copenhagen published the result of their ten 
years' investigations concerning the discovery of America 
by the Northmen in the Tenth Century, in a volume en- 
titled Antiquitates- Americana, the old mill at Newport, the 
rock inscription at Dighton, in Massachusetts, and the dis- 
covery of skeletons evidently of a race different from the 
Indians, elicited the earnest attention of inquirers, as sub- 
jects in some way connected with those early discoveries. 
Dr. Webb, who was then a resident of Providence, and 
secretary to the Rhode Island Historical Society, opened a 
correspondence with Charles C. Rafn, the Secretary to the 
Royal Society of Copenhagen, Dr. Webb employed Mr. 
Catherwood to make drawings of the mill, and these, with 
a particular account of the structure, he transmitted to 
Professor Rafn. Here was opened for the society a new 
field of inquiry, the products of which were published, with 
engravings from Mr. Catherwood's drawings. According 
to Professor Rafn, the architecture of this building is in the 
ante-Gothic style, which was common in the north and 
west of Europe from the Eighth to the Twelfth Centuries. 
" The circular form, the low columns, their thickness in 
proportion to their distance from each other, and the entire 


want of ornament," he says, " all point out this epoch." 
He imagines that it was used for a baptistery, and accounts 
for the absence of buildings of a similar character by the 
abundance of wood in America. The brevity of the so- 
journ of the Northmen here was doubtless another, and per- 
haps principal reason, why similar structures were not 
erected. The fact that the navigators of Sweden, Norway 
and Iceland visited and explored the American coast, as far 
as the shores of Connecticut, and probably more southerly, 
during the Tenth and Eleventh Centuries (five hundred 
years before the voyages of Columbus), appears to be too 
well attested to need further notice here. For the proofs 
the reader is referred to the interesting work alluded to An- 
tiquitates- Americana. 



IN the chapel of St. Paul's, and in the graveyard that sur- 
rounds it, there are sights enough to keep a thoughtful 
person busy during more than one long day. To see the 
people hurrying along Broadway, without even a glance at 
the dim, old building, you would never think so. Close by 
the chapel door, which faces the churchyard, there is a 
bench which I occupy so often that I have come to feel that 
it is my personal property. It rests close by the ivy-cov- 
ered wall, and, although it is but a dozen steps from the 
street, the intervening churchyard gives it relief and quiet 
so that all sight and sound of the bustling city seem shut off. 
Sometimes there are visitors, doubtless attracted by my 
at-home appearance as I sit there, who ask me questions 
about the church and the churchyard. I always like to be 
asked these questions, and answer them as best I can. If 
the questioners are interested, I deliver a sort of lecture, tell- 
ing how very small the city was in the year 1764, when the 
cornerstone of the church was laid, and how the building 
was opened in the second year after that. Then I wander 
on and tell how there were fields all around in those days, 
and how they sloped from the church door right down to the 
river. Sometimes, when there is a word of surprise at the 

'From When Old New York Was Young ( New York, 1902). By per- 
mission of the author. 


many houses that now stand between the church and the 
river, I explain that a great deal of the land has been filled 
in during the one hundred and thirty odd years that have 
passed and that it has become too valuable to be left as a 
green field. 

My last inquirer was an old gentleman, who was so much 
more in earnest than the usual curiosity seeker, that I asked 
him if he had lived long in the city. 

" I am only here for a time, from the West," said he. 
" This is my first visit to St. Paul's although I love every 
stone in the old building. My father, when he was a child, 
lived near here, and, although he left the city with his par- 
ents in his youth, he often talked to me ot this church, and 
how he had played among the tombstones when he was a 
boy. But the church seems smaller than I have imag- 
ined it." 

And then I told him that to me, too, the church seemed 
to grow smaller each year, but this was, doubtless, caused 
by the tall buildings growing up around it ; and that the 
church had, in the time when his father knew it, been con- 
sidered a giant of a building. 

The old man nodded his head. " Yes, yes ; doubtless 
so," said he. Then, on my invitation, he gladly followed 
me into the chapel, and I led the way to the pew, off the 
north aisle, where George Washington used to sit when he 
attended service, and which has been preserved as he 
used it. 

"So this is the Washington pew ! " said my companion, 
as he tenderly tapped the woodwork against which he leaned, 



and looked admiringly at the coat-of-arms of New York on 
the wall above. 

" Yes, and you will remember that in 1776, when the in- 
vading British force came, the city was fired, Trinity Church 
was burned, with all its records, and the flames swept away 
a great part of the western side of the city. St. Paul's 
Chapel was saved, and here, during the British occupation, 
Lord Howe, the English commander, and many soldiers of 
the King attended service. And when the British left New 
York, and the American forces came, Washington and his 
army took their places in the church. And to this church, 
on the day that he was inaugurated as first President of the 
United States, came Washington, and sat in this pew in 
which we now sit. Those who visited the church in Wash- 
ington's time have left the record that he was Commander- 
in-Chief, and in the days when he was President, he always 
attended the church without the slightest display, that he 
walked in very quietly, and that when he was in his seat he 
paid not the slightest attention to anything except his prayer- 
book and the clergyman. During all the time that he was 
in the city, he regularly, each week made the entry for 
Sunday in his diary : 4 Went to St. Paul's Chapel in the 

" And there you see the sounding-board on the pulpit, 
with the coat-of-arms of the Prince of Wales on the top. 
During Revolutionary days, patriots rushed through the 
city and destroyed everything that suggested allegiance to 
England. In some way, this sounding-board escaped 
destruction, so that now it is the only pre-Revolu- 


tionary relic remaining in the place where it originally 

" There, beside the west wall, is a bust of John Wells, 
erected by the members of the City Bar. He was a talented 
lawyer, who died in 1823. Wells was the sole survivor of 
a large family, all the members of which, except himself, 
were killed by Indians at the Cherry Valley Massacre. 
That he lived was due to his being at the time away from 
home attending school. He came to the city, practised 
law successfully for many years, and died regretted by the 
entire fraternity." 

These things and others in the chapel I pointed out to 
my companion, and then he followed me out into the 
churchyard again. We noted the spot, close by Vesey 
Street, where lay the remains of George Eacker, who killed 
the son of Alexander Hamilton in a duel, a few years 
before the great statesman was himself killed in the self- 
same way. There was another grave, almost in the centre 
of the yard, of a man who, in his day, had made a name 
for himself, which is almost forgotten now. It was the 
grave of Christopher Colles. He first conceived the idea 
of the Erie Canal, and delivered lectures on the subject, 
long years before DeWitt Clinton carried the project to a 
successful conclusion. It was this same Christopher Colles 
who built a reservoir by the Collect Pond, giving New York 
her first water-works, and applying steam practically to his 
pumping-station ten years before Fulton applied it to navi- 
gation. Colles died in 1821, a poor man. 

The tall monument to the south of the church, erected 


to the memory of Thomas Addis Emmett, the jurist and 
brother of Robert Emmett, interested my companion more 
than anything else. He took a deep interest in decipher- 
ing the inscription on the west side a curious inscription 
for a tombstone, for it reads, 

40 42' 40" N., 

74 03' 21" 5 W. L. G., 

and tells the exact latitude and longitude in which the 
monument is. 

When we came to the monument set in the chancel 
window facing the street, my companion looked at me 
inquiringly. It was just after the celebration of Decora- 
tion Day, and a wreath of fresh flowers, bound with a trail- 
ing ribbon of imperial purple, quite hid the inscription on 
this tomb. Then we talked over the story of the brave 
hero of Quebec Major-General Richard Montgomery 
whose body lies beneath the chancel ; spoke of how he had 
fallen in that fateful battle of 1775 calling on the men of 
New York to follow where he led j how the men had fol- 
lowed him, and how many of them had fallen with their 
general ; of the day forty-three years later, when the nation 
for which he had died, remembering his brave deeds, had 
brought his body home to the city from its first resting 
place in Quebec ; how on that day the city had been draped 
in mourning j how the streets had resounded to the tread 
of marching feet, and how the body had been interred 
beneath the chancel, where a monument was already set 
up to a great and good man, and a reminder to all that the 
deeds of men live after them. 


And then we reached the gate which opens into the 
churchyard from Broadway. For a few moments we stood 
silently looking at the crowds that hurried past. I do not 
know what were my companion's thoughts just then, but 
my own were of those other men who a hundred years 
before had hurried along the same thoroughfare, and of 
whom the only reminders now are the tombstones in the 
churchyard. My companion then left me, mingled with 
the crowds and was soon lost to sight. 

I meant to have told him that to know all the pictur- 
esqueness of Old St. Paul's, it should be visited on a night 
in early winter; one of those dreary nights when the rain 
falls blurring the glare of lights until those from each sepa- 
rate store-window seem to melt together. Then all the 
noise and bustle settle down into a sullen roar. Wet and 
dripping horses flounder past ; cable cars glide along with 
clanging sound of bell ; people knock umbrellas together 
as they hurry on. The rain, the noise, the confusion, the 
lights bewilder the brain. As one passes the Astor House, 
where the confusion is greatest, the lights most dazzling, 
the crowds largest and most in a hurry, you suddenly come 
upon the churchyard. It is merely to cross narrow Vesey 
Street, but it is like stepping from day to night. The 
sight of the dark old church and the quiet tombs behind 
the tall iron fence breathe of silence and comfort. In the 
daytime the tombstones are brown and faded, but on these 
rainy nights the lights creeping in through the bars make 
them white as snow. 



A quaint, curious corner, side by side with the roar and 
rush of the city. The rusty iron railing is a barrier seem- 
ing to shut out noise and life, as though to protect the 
sleepers in their well-earned rest. 



IN 1740 Peter Faneuil, a Huguenot resident of Boston, 
who had recently inherited a large fortune from his 
uncle, offered to build a market-house at his own expense 
and give it to the town, provided they would pass a vote 
agreeing to accept and maintain it under proper regulations. 
Accordingly a town-meeting was called to consider the 
matter, and the thanks of the meeting were unanimously 
extended to Mr. Faneuil, for his generous offer. But upon 
the question of accepting it, there was such a division of 
opinion, that the vote stood 367 in favour and 360 against 
it. Thus narrowly, by only seven votes in a large meet- 
ing, did the project succeed, so slow were the people to see 
the advantages of the new system. 

We can hardly conceive of Boston now without its 
Faneuil Hall ; but the crowds who daily gather about it 
little imagine how much they are indebted to the energy 
of its earliest friends in that critical moment when its very 
existence was hanging in the balance. 

The structure was completed in 1742, John Swibert, the 
portrait painter, being the architect, and Samuel Ruggles 
the builder. Mr. Faneuil enlarged the original plan and 

1 From Rambles in Old Boston (Boston, 1887). By permission of the 
publishers, Messrs. Cupples, Upham and Co. 


added a hall above the market, and additional proof 
of his munificence which was gratefully recognized by the 
town in its public acceptance of the gift, on which oc- 
casion the name " Faneuil Hall " was given to it 
to be retained forever ; and " as a further testimony 
of respect, it was voted that Mr. Faneuil's picture be 
drawn at full length and placed in the hall." The town 
also added the Faneuil arms, beautifully carved and gilt by 
Moses Deshon. 

The building was constructed of brick, two stories and a 
half high, one hundred feet long and forty feet wide, with 
open arches below and a tower above, and was in many 
respects the most important edifice in the town. Its 
architecture was considered imposing and ornate. The 
spacious hall would contain a thousand persons, and there 
were various rooms besides. The town-meetings were 
held here after this, and the selectmen's offices were 
removed from the old Town-House in King, now State 
Street, which was left chiefly to the Legislature and the 

Most unexpectedly, a few months after the building was 
completed, its founder died ; and the first oration pronounced 
in the hall, was his own eulogy by John Lovell, the well- 
known master of the Latin School. 

In January, 1761, the interior of the building caught 
fire, and nothing but the bare walls remained. The 
records, fortunately, and some other documents were 
saved. The hall was rebuilt on the old plan, and opened 
again in March, 1763, when James Otis, Jr.> delivered the 


dedicatory address. The cause of the patriots was now 
making such progress in Boston that large meetings were 
held in Faneuil Hall to give expression to the popular feel- 
ing ; and hence arose the name " Cradle of Liberty," which 
it has borne ever since, and which it so well deserves. 

In March, 1767, the hall was illuminated by vote of the 
town, to commemorate the repeal of the Stamp Act. The 
following year, a convention of representatives from nearly 
all the towns in the Province was in session here for a 
week in September, to consider what measures could be 
taken in view of the expected arrival of a large force of 
British troops. Governor Bernard refused to recognize 
the convention, although its proceedings were throughout 
orderly and constitutional. The fleet arrived immediately 
after j and the Fourteenth Regiment, Colonel Dalrymple, 
was quartered in Faneuil Hall for a month, by order of the 
Governor, though not without a vigorous protest from the 

During the stormy period preceding the outbreak of 
the Revolution, many notable town-meetings were con- 
vened here, as on the occasion of the Boston Massacre 
and on the arrival of the "detestable tea." But the 
hall at that time could not hold as many people as the 
Old South, and this explains why some of the large meet- 
ings adjourned to the latter place. 

During the siege of Boston the building was at first used 
as a storehouse for arms and furniture, and then converted 
into a theatre for the diversion of the troops. Among the 
performances, the tragedy of Zara and the comedy of The 


Busybody were frequently given ; and, once, at least, a local 
farce written by General Burgoyne, and entitled The 
Blockade of Boston. This would be an interesting relic of 
the period if it could be found, but it does not appear ever 
to have been printed. After the evacuation of Boston, the 
portraits of Peter Faneuil, George II., Governor Shirley, 
General Conway, and Colonel Barre, which had hung in 
Faneuil Hall, were missing, nor has any trace of them ever 
been discovered. 

In the year 1806, with the new era of prosperity, the 
hall was very much enlarged by doubling the width and 
adding a third story. This, of course, has greatly changed 
the appearance of the structure, although its original style 
has been fairly well preserved. 

The interior, with its lofty galleries and classic columns, 
has become well known to thousands. Here the great 
questions of the century, touching the commercial, political 
and philanthropic interests of Boston, have been eloquently 
discussed by the foremost orators of the time. Many a 
Bostonian can recall the occasions when he has stood on 
the sanded floor for hours with a patient and patriotic 
crowd, applauding the sentiments of one speaker after 
another as they came forward upon the platform and em- 
phasized the issues of the hour. Here great public recep- 
tions have been given to distinguished guests, together with 
many civic and military banquets. Here, formerly, were 
held the industrial exhibitions of the Massachusetts Chari- 
table Mechanic Association. It is emphatically the people's 
hall, and will always remain soj for, by a provision in the 


city charter, neither Faneuil Hall, nor Boston Common, 
can ever be sold or let for money. 

The collection of portraits attracts many visitors. On 
the west wall is Healy's large painting of Webster replying 
to Hayne in the Senate, and near it are Stuart's Washington 
and Copley's Hancock, Warren and Samuel Adams. There 
are also portraits of Peter Faneuil, John Quincy Adams, 
Edward Everett, Governor Andrew, Senator Wilson, Rob- 
ert Treat Paine, Caleb Strong, Commodore Preble, General 
Knox, Rufus Choate, President Lincoln, Anson Burlin- 
game, Admiral Winslow and Wendell Phillips. Back of 
the rostrum are busts of John Adams, Samuel Adams and 
Daniel Webster. The clock was presented to the city by 
the school children of Boston in 1850. 

The upper hall has been chiefly used as an armory by 
various military corps, especially of late by the Ancient and 
Honourable Artillery Company, the oldest military organi- 
zation in the country. The Massachusetts Historical So- 
ciety held some of its early meetings in the northwest corner 
of the upper story in the old building from 1792 to 1794 

The grasshopper vane is an interesting survivor of the 
former structure. It was made by Shem Drowne, the well- 
known copper-smith of the last century, who also made and 
repaired the cockerel vane for the Second Church. The 
famous Indian vane on the Province House was also his 
handiwork. He died in 1774, at the age of ninety years. 

The insect is remarkably well preserved, and shows the 
fidelity with which it was made ; all the details being care- 
fully worked out in copper, as if they were to be closely in- 


spected. The eyes are of glass and shine in the sunlight 
with great brilliancy. The grasshopper is supposed to have 
been suggested by the vane on the Royal Exchange of Lon- 
don. It was also the device for the vane on the summer 
house of the Faneuil estate on Tremont Street. 



ON Bedloe's Island, a mile and a half below the Bat- 
tery, on the site formerly occupied by Fort Wood, 
the most famous statue in America greets and welcomes 
every ship that enters the beautiful harbour of New York. 

Just as soon as you leave the lower New York Bay and 
note the Brooklyn Bridge which at this distance and in 
the twilight appears like a filmy cobweb, so airily suspended 
above the East River that it seems as if the lightest breeze 
might blow it away the eye is fascinated by the sparkling., 
bluish light from Liberty's uplifted torch. Ever larger and 
brighter it grows, as your boat speeds through the dying 
tints of sunset, more brilliant than the silver stars in the 
sky, the red and green lights of the river craft, and the 
golden beads that now begin to outline the fairy bridge. 

On entering the Harbour in the daytime, the tall, grace- 
ful figure silhouetted against the sky soon attracts your at- 
tention ; and if you are approaching New York from the 
south, long before you reach the city, long before the 
sharp, salt, invigourating air from the sea sweet to smell and 
sweet to taste strikes nostril and lip, across the flat mead- 
ows of Jersey, you see the great effulgent Star of Liberty 
shining like Rigel, Sirius, or Arcturus. 

The island on which the colossal statue stands was called 
Minnisais in the Indian language, meaning " small island." 
In Colonial days it was the summer home of Captain Ken- 



nedy, of the Royal Navy, afterwards the Earl or Cassilis. 
In 1753} it is described in an advertisement as follows : " To 
be Let. Bedloe's Island, alias Love Island, together with 
the dwelling-house and lighthouse being finely situated for 
a tavern, where all kinds of garden stuff, poultry, etc., may 
be easily raised for the shipping outward bound, and from 
where any quantity of pickled oysters may be transported ; 
it abounds with English rabbits." 

In 1758, Bedloe's Island became a quarantine station, 
and during the War of the Revolution, it was chosen as an 
asylum for Tory refugees ; but the buildings prepared for 
their reception were burned on the night of April 2, 1776. 

A strong star fort was erected here in 1814 when the de- 
fences of New York were strengthened ; and it is on the 
site of Fort Wood that the great pedestal rests. 

The idea of this colossal statue originated with the French 
Sculptor, Bartholdi, in 1871, while on a visit to New York, 
and it was first discussed in the house of M. Laboulaye 
at Glavigny, near Versailles. In 1875, M. Bartholdi sub- 
mitted his design to the Union Franco- Americaine, which 
had been formed in France for the purpose ot presenting 
the people of the United States with a gift in honour of the 
country's celebration of its hundred years of independence. 
When the design was accepted, the French society poetically 
expressed its intention as follows: 

" We desire to erect in the unequalled harbour of New 
York a gigantic statue on the threshold of the New World, 
to rise from the bosom of the waves and represent Liberty 
enlightening the World.'* 


The French people subscribed enough to pay for the cost 
of the work more than $250,000, and the wrist and hand 
with the torch were sent to the Centennial Exhibition of 
1876 held at Philadelphia. In 1877, the citizens of New 
York held a meeting and appointed a committee to raise the 
necessary funds and procure the necessary legislation for 
the erection of this gift to the nation. Congress authorized 
its acceptance and passed a resolution to provide for 
its erection on Bedloe's Island and also for its care. 
The public subscriptions were devoted to the founda- 
tion and the pedestal. In 1884, the statue was finished 
and presented to the United States Minister in Paris and in 
the following year it was taken to pieces and shipped in the 
French man-of war, here. The statue arrived in New 
York Harbour on June 17, 1885, and two days later it was 
taken to Bedloe's Island. It was dedicated on October 
28, 1886, with much ceremony. The day was unfor- 
tunately misty and foggy. President Cleveland was pres- 
ent and many distinguished French guests, among whom 
was M. de Lesseps. The ceremony is thus described : 

" After a prayer by the Rev. Dr. Storrs, the Comte de 
Lesseps was introduced and made a brief speech on the part 
of France, and then Senator William M. Evarts in an ex- 
tended address, delivered the statue to the people of the 
United States through the President. M. Bartholdi himself 
with trembling hand pulled the covering from the face of 
the great statue, and when the roar of the answering can- 
nons had in a measure subsided, President Cleveland, in a 
tew words, accepted the gift M. W A. Lefaivre as the 


accredited representative of the French nation, made a short 
address, and the ceremonies were brought to an end by an 
eloquent oration from Mr. Chauncey M. Depew." 

The ideal significance of the statue was thus happily ex- 
pressed : " We dedicate this statue to the friendship of na- 
tions and the peace of the world ; the spirit of Liberty em- 
braces all races in common brotherhood, it voices in all 
languages the same needs and aspirations." 

Figures are rarely interesting ; but as Liberty Enlighten- 
ing the World is the highest statue in the world, its dimen- 
sions are worth noting. The figure itself is in feet high, 
and to the extremity of the torch 151-41 feet. The head 
is 13^ feet high, the thumb is 12 feet in circumference, 
and the forefinger is 7 feet 1 1 inches long. The extremity 
of the torch is 305 feet n inches above mean'tide. The 
statue may be ascended by means of stairways within ; a 
stairway leads into the head, which can accommodate forty 
persons at a time, and a stairway also leads into the ex- 
tended arm. The pedestal also contains stairways and bal- 
conies near the top 

The foundation for the pedestal, which is 89 feet high 
and built of cut stone, was made within the walls of the 
old fort. The dimensions of the pedestal are 63 feet 
square at the base and 43}^ at the top. The torch 
and diadem are lighted by electricity. The statue is com- 
posed of 300 bronze plates and weighs 220 tons. General 
Charles P. Stone was the engineer of the pedestal and Mr. 
Richard M. Hunt, its architect. 


This book is DUE on the last date stamped below 

DEC ! 8 1950^ 



JAN 281866